Shit Happens
by redrose689
Summary: Although they're two idiots that, as far as she can tell, seem to have no care for their own wellbeing, Rick and Daryl have families. She added that to the pro of helping them live. Bella's eyebrows furrowed, and, with a frown, she stared intently at her bow, as if willing it to make a choice for her. Instead, a June bug smacked her in the face. She narrowed her eyes.
1. Far Too Long

"Man, forget this. We haven't found shit all day."

"Daryl, we need the food. The kids, Lori, and all the others can't keep going like this. With that herd blocking the highway, we gotta lie low at the camp till we figure out what to do. Until then we need to find anything we can use to keep us going."

Bella ducked down underneath the window when the shadows on the curtains flickered, the two voices from inside getting fainter. She breathed in deeply, a futile attempt calm herself down, before looking up at the starry sky.

She could leave. This had been going on far too long, and the three bastards she's been tracking for the past two days hadn't led her straight to their camp as she hoped. Instead, the men had been blindly traipsing through the forest looking for more people to loot. This finally led them, and Bella, to a decrepit, beat-up cabin where their new victims, two unsuspecting men, are about to be jumped and probably gruesomely killed.

A loud huff from inside interrupted her thoughts. Voice rough and gravelly, Daryl had a distinct low, southern twang. "Rick, I'm tellin ya our best bet is to head back, and I'll snatch up as much game as I can to feed the families."

Rick and Daryl, the two idiots who, as far as she can tell, seem to have no care for their own wellbeing, have families. She added that to the pro of helping them live. Bella's eyebrows furrowed, and, with a frown, she stared intently at her bow, as if willing it to make a choice for her. Instead, a June bug smacked her in the face after a failed attempt to make it to the window and landed next to her boots. She narrowed her eyes at it.

Knowing that the men were almost on Rick and Daryl, Bella made a decision. She shot a look of distaste at the June bug that was currently on its back, struggling to flip over. Without making a sound, she crept to the front of the cabin where the door was left wide open, almost as if inviting her in.

* * *

Daryl was _pissed_. After being dragged by Rick to help him with a run that Daryl knew was pointless (which indeed it was), they ended up being jumped by three guys who looked like they could barely figure out left from right.

Dumb as they looked, they still had Rick and Daryl kneeling with guns to their heads.

The leader of the group, Roy, kicked Daryl's crossbow. "Watch it," Daryl snarled, his steel blue eyes narrowing dangerously at him. But pain flared in Daryl's jaw as Will gave a solid punch, knocking Daryl down in the process.

Deputy Friendly, in his stupid sheriff getup, tried to talk to Roy imploringly. His hat strewn across the ground a couple feet away from him, Rick said, "Look, you can take what we have and be on your way. We don't have much, but no one has to get hurt."

Roy gave out a booming laugh. Daryl could only see a rifle slung across his back and a hatchet in his hand. Get rid of the hatchet first, thought Daryl. Roy wouldn't have time to reach for his gun. "Well, ya see here, sheriff, my boys and I here haven't had the chance to meet many people these days. And from what we heard before we came to introduce ourselves, you sirs also got a camp with even _more_ people."

"That means some food and women," added Aiden. He looked like one of those men Daryl would see at dive bars on a Tuesday night. Balding prematurely and with a proud, round belly, the man looked like he had never made a living – now and before. It was a wonder that this kind of guy could still be alive now.

Immediately, Rick and Daryl tensed up. Daryl knew they had to get out of this shit before it could get any worse. Jaw clenched, he took in their surroundings.

They were holed up in some crusty bedroom with Roy on one side of the room, right of the doorway. Rick and Daryl were put on the other side of the room, left of the doorway. Aiden and Rick were closest to the exit, while Daryl and Will were the farthest which meant he was next to the window.

Daryl also noted that Will was the youngest and most likely the weakest of the men. As thin as a twig, Will was holding his gun with a And, conveniently, he was the one that was in charge of Daryl.

Roy, again, laughed. Daryl swore if he heard Roy make that noise again he'd kill him. "Ignore Aiden over there. We just a little bit worked up. There's some psycho bitch out there that has been causing a bit of trouble for us, so we been out here all week trying to deal with that problem." Roy nonchalantly strolled in front of Rick, as if he's got all the time in the world.

He grinned as if he just came up with the greatest solution. "But enough about us. We'll make this simple for y'all. You tell us where you gents are holed up, and we won't kill ya. _Or_ else we gotta kill you first." He pointed his hatchet toward Rick, "and then save this guy," he swung the hatchet towards Daryl, "for last."

Roy raised his eyebrows at them expectantly, as if waiting for them to congratulate him. Instead, the sheriff was giving him the creepiest side-eye glare Roy's ever seen, and the redneck was staring him with murder in his eyes. Roy squinted his eyes at them and shrugged. "Well if that is how it's gotta be," he said before raising his axe above Rick.

Daryl tensed, bracing himself to knock Will over, when suddenly, an arrow suddenly was buried in Roy's head. The end of the arrow was sticking out from the back of his head, the white of its feathers looking glaringly out of place. Everyone froze in place as blood trickled out of Roy's nose. First came a thud from the axe that had slipped out of Roy's hand and then finally the thump of Roy's body as he slumped in front of Rick.

Before anyone could react, something – _someone_ – lunged out from the hallway and jumped on Aiden, knocking the gun out of his hand. Aiden, although bigger, was obviously and woefully outmatched in this fight. The woman, for Daryl startlingly realized was _indeed a woman_ , clearly had fighting experience. She brutally shoved her elbow into her opponent's side, causing him to bend over with a grunt. She then used her other elbow to smash into Aiden's jaw. He stumbled backwards but blindly shot his arm out. He managed to land a solid punch on her cheek, causing her to be knocked onto the floor with a dull thud.

It was at this point Rick, Daryl, and Will alike seemed to have recovered from the shock of what had just occurred. Will had his gun pointed toward the two fighting but, realizing he had no clear shot, too late tried to point it back towards Daryl. Daryl lunged and easily grappled the gun out of Will's hand, while Rick threw himself towards Aiden's gun that had slid across the room.

Meanwhile, Bella had kicked Aiden's legs out from underneath him. He had fallen back, causing his head to bang hard against the floor, thus effectively knocking him out. Before he had even hit the ground, Bella lunged for her bow, which she had dropped before tackling the man.

In a heartbeat, she strung an arrow and, with one knee still on the ground, whirled to aim it toward the two men that she had, quite successfully if she had to say so herself, rescued.

At the same time, Daryl and Rick, now armed with the guns that were once pointed at their own heads, aimed their weapons toward the woman who had just saved their lives.


	2. Stuck

The woman slowly stood up, her arrow never wavering. Daryl ignored the fact that it was pointed toward him and sized her up, just as she was doing to them.

Her black, wavy hair was held back into a ponytail, revealing a pale face that had begun to acquire a golden tint from time out in the sun. A bruise on her cheekbone was beginning to blossom, a souvenir from her confrontation with the still knocked-out Aiden. She wore dark jeans that had some dirt rubbed into it and was tucked into her black boots. The loose white tank underneath her unbuttoned forest green plaid shirt revealed some walker gore splattered onto it. Besides those stains on her clothing, she was overall well-kept, suggesting she had a place to stay and clean up.

Although slight and short, the woman held her bow with a surety and strength that came from experience. Daryl guessed that she had been shooting long before the turn, which was further supported by the fact that she had her own arm guard on her bow arm and archery gloves on her drawing hand. They were also made of a fine black leather material, indicating she cared for the quality of her equipment. As he studied her arm guard, he noted with a surprise that attached to it on the back of her forearm was a hilt for a smaller blade. His eyes went down to the belt on her waist where he took note of her larger hunting knife that was tucked into its hilt.

But what was most startling about this woman to Daryl, other than the fact that this small thing can _fight_ were her eyes. Most people think green eyes are beautiful, but hers were goddamn _unsettling._ The exact color of emeralds, they seem to almost glow. Hell, they matched the exact color of her shirt. When they shifted from Rick to himself, he resisted the instinctual urge to look away and stared back, even if it made him uneasy.

For a while no one spoke. Daryl shifted impatiently, and her eyes followed wearily. This caused him to break and his gruff voice broke through the tension. "Who the hell're you?"

She raised an eyebrow and then she gave a small smile. He bristled at the idea that she was _amused_ by his question, but before he could respond her voice, light and almost melodic, cut through.

"I'm the psycho bitch that saved your life.

* * *

Bella didn't know what to expect, but she certainly wasn't expecting this.

Her eyes immediately zoned in to the most conspicuous person in the sparse room: the sheriff. Wearing a cowboy hat and everything, he stood with a slight bow-legged stance next to the lit fireplace. He held a gun comfortably in his hands. It was probably worth mentioning that it and his eyes were aimed at her. His grey-blue eyes that had an intensity that suggested this man not only fight but survive. Despite that, he didn't seem hostile or aggressive, unlike his friend.

Everything about the other guy screamed _tense._ Granted they had almost just died, but every muscle in this guy was taut. Just like the arrow strung in her bow, waiting to strike. The way he stood, head low and almost crouching over, made her think of an animal ready to pounce. He was wearing a button-up that naturally had its sleeves ripped off and cargo pants – both of which seem to have seen better days. She thinks his eyes are a piercing blue. She wasn't sure because of the way he was goddamn glaring the hell out of her.

From the moment she first shifted her attention to him, his eyes narrowed. Clearly, he didn't seem to trust her, which was absolutely fine by her.

"Who the hell're you?" She recognized his rough southern twang and continued to look at who she now knows is Daryl.

She almost snorted out loud. He seemed so on edge, despite the fact that she clearly was the reason Rick still had his head. His outright hostility wasn't what she was expecting, and she resisted the urge to laugh in his face. Bella figured that wasn't a good way to approach this man. But her lips quirked up a little, she couldn't help say, "I'm the psycho bitch that saved your life."

If possible, he glared even harder.

The sheriff, Rick, took over. In a calmer, yet firm, voice, he said, "You're right about that. Because of that I'm going to hope in good faith that it's safe to assume you don't mean any harm to us."

With that, he made a point to cautiously and slowly lower his gun to the ground and raised his arms in an offer of peace. His clear eyes never left hers, and they tried to convey a message of a truce. Unconvinced, Bella looked pointedly at Daryl, who still had his gun aiming at her.

"Daryl," Rick's tone held a warning that, although reluctantly and with a scoff, caused Daryl to simply drop his gun.

Bella pursed her lips and lowered her bow. But instead of putting it on the ground, she simply slung it across her back where her quiver was. The relief on Rick's face was evident, but he still was guarded, which was understandable in these times. Unsure of what to say, she slowly moved towards Aiden, who was still slumped on the ground in front of her.

"Do you know these people," Rick asked. Bella almost rolled her eyes. They all knew that dear old Roy had said that they were out looking for her in the first place. Rick stayed where he was, in front of Roy's body, while Daryl moved closer to Rick before leaning against the wall. Arms crossed, he watched every move she made with evident suspicion.

She rolled Aiden over onto his back, and, using rope that she had found in the living room earlier, began tying his hands together. Satisfied that they'd hold, she grabbed a scrap of fabric that was lying on the floor and shoved it in Aiden's mouth. It wasn't until she finished that she finally responded.

"I had a few unfortunate run-ins." She walked wearily towards Will, which meant she was moving in closer to Daryl. And then said in an afterthought, "well, at least unfortunate for them."

She knew it was a vague response, and she knew as well as they did that it also served as a warning. She continued the same process with Will, tying up and gagging him, while being very aware of the presence of the other two. This subtle threat seemed to rile up Daryl, which was unsurprising even to her.

"How'd you even find us? Did ya lead 'em here?" He began pacing the room, moving away from her while still keeping watch.

She rolled her eyes at this. Still crouched next to Will, she rocked to the back of her heels, letting out a sigh, before standing up and looking at Daryl directly. "Just so I can have the trouble of saving your asses? No, Daryl, it was certainly not my intention."

Before Daryl could let out a retort, Rick cut him off with a warning glance before looking back at Bella and said, "we just want to know who these guys are and what the hell just happened."

She walked over to stand between the limp and unconscious bodies of Aiden and Will. Bella faced the two men who stood of the other side of the room on either side of the fire place. To the surprise of both of them, she pressed her back against the wall and slid down so she was sitting facing them. Eyebrows furrowed, she mulled over how to respond.

"I first ran into them three or so weeks ago when I had just found some supplies. They offered a safe place to stay, which I denied. That's when surprised me and took the stuff I had scavenged and tried to take me by force also. I escaped but since then they've been straying closer toward me. They don't know where I stay but they've been trying their damn hardest to find out. Every time they got too near, I did my best to annoy the shit out of them."

Rick raised an eyebrow at that. "What did you do?"

Bella shrugged, "led walkers to them, stole their shit when they weren't looking, and set traps. But two days ago, I heard them talking about heading back to their base soon. I figured I'd follow them back to know how close they are. Since then I've been following them until they came across you guys."

"How many are there," cut in Daryl.

"Besides these three," she waved her hand at the bodies, "I've only seen five others." Before the others could respond, she asked "why are you guys here in the woods?"

She wanted to know if she could trust them. She wanted to know if they'd lie to her, and if they really had kids that they needed to take care of. More importantly, Bella needed to know if she should help these people.

Rick and Daryl looked at each other. They had a silent agreement before Daryl, to her surprise, responded. "We got a camp with kids and others out on the highway. It's blocked by a herd, and until we figure out another route or way to pass 'em, we're stuck."

They didn't know that she overheard their conversation outside the window, so it was a relief to know they weren't lying. When she reached for her pack, they tensed. Ignoring them, she pulled out a canteen, took a sip, and then tossed it to a surprised Rick. She hadn't seen any bottles along their scattered belongings near the window and assumed they hadn't had anything to drink in a while.

Rick gave a small nod to her before taking a swig and handing it to Daryl. Daryl looked at Bella intently, before accepting the drink. Bella noted with amusement that he wasn't glaring anymore.

Finished, Daryl made a motion to throw it back, but Bella shook her head and stood up. "You guys can drink the rest. I have more back at my camp, and I think you guys need it more than I do," she said not unkindly.

Rick took the opening. "If you don't mind me asking, what is this camp?" He paused. "And what is your name?"

She gave a small smile and said, "if you would like, you are both welcome to see. And my name is Bella."


	3. With or Without

"We should be there by ten o'clock or so," Bella whispered over her shoulder, so quiet that Daryl wasn't even sure if he heard correctly.

Taking up the rear, Daryl cautiously looked around, eyes squinting in an effort to make out some shapes in the forest. It was a full moon that night, thus allowing him to discern some of their surroundings. Still, it didn't sit right with him that they were on the move at a time where walkers can easily creep up on them.

 _"It isn't safe to be here," she had said, "in this area specifically." She nodded toward the room where Aiden and Will were tied up. "A bit before, when the sun was still up, the other five of them split off south to a place they found the other day to hole up for the night. The sun had just set when they found you two. In a few hours, they'll know something's up when these three don't show."_

 _Daryl had given out a scoff. "You are a psycho bitch if you want us to blindly waltz off with ya in the night where we might run into the rest of their lot and walkers."_

 _Her green eyes blinked, unfazed. "Look, I'm going with or without you. I know where they're camping out, and I know it's in the opposite direction of where I'm going. You guys don't have to come with me, but sooner or later the others are gonna come looking for these three. And I bet you that the two tied up and the dead guy have nothing nice to say about us."_

The sound of a twig snapping echoed through the whole forest. Rick and Daryl tensed, both holding their knives at the ready. Bella was up ahead and already had her bow strung, waiting. With no one moving, all Daryl could hear were cicadas and crickets.

The silence was broken when Bella let out a small whistle that could've been mistaken for a bird. Daryl could only see her silhouette as she beckoned them to keep moving. He glowered at her back, where he could see the outline of his crossbow slung across beside her quiver.

 _Rick had agreed. That sheriff had a death wish if his second trip to Atlanta had anything to say about it. So, him agreeing to her point was unsurprising. What was more surprising was him agreeing to her next demand._

 _"You guys can come. But only if you let me hold on to your weapons."_

 _Daryl immediately shook his head. "Nah. Grimes and I don't need ya."_

 _Rick just looked at Bella. Wary, he just let out a short "why?"_

 _She sighed and leaned against a god-awful looking armchair. "I also have someone I care about. I'm not about to let the two of you, who've I barely met, to come in armed. Even if I think you two are not terrible people." She then looked at Daryl, who was holding onto the strap of his crossbow that was slung on his back. "I'll let you keep your knives as we walk, and as long as all of you stay close to me, we should be fine. Once we get there I'll take those knives, but you guys are free to leave in the morning with all of your weapons."_

 _Rick pulled Daryl to the side where they had an argument. The winner of the debate was clear when Daryl huffed, yanked the crossbow of his back, and practically shoved it toward Bella._

 _She accepted it, gently placed it on her back, and unexpectantly winked at Daryl. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."_

They trekked through the woods for about an hour. Only one walker stumbled across them, which Bella easily dispatched using her hunting knife. The ease at which she approached walkers and even the ease at which she _killed_ troubled Daryl.

 _"We don't know nothin' about this woman, and you want us to just follow everythin' she says," seethed Daryl._

 _"I know that she saved our necks from these men. And the stuff that they were sayin' about women and wanting to know where our camp is makes me think that she's honest about what she has to say about them." Rick saw Daryl preparing to lash out again, so Rick quickly said, "I admit she's dangerous. She killed that man and doesn't seem to be bothered by it. That means she probably has done it before. But she also didn't kill the two tied up. I think she's dangerous. But not to us." He shook his head. "At least not to those who don't deserve it."_

 _"This was your mission, Grimes. You wanted to come out here to get supplies: medicine, food, and ammo. How does followin' this woman help us?"_

 _"Daryl, she knows where the water is. She hasn't been starving either. This Bella could be what we need"_

"We're here," her soft voice cut through the air. The three stopped at the edge of the forest.

"Here" was a large clearing that gave way to a water tower that rose taller than the trees. The tower stood at the end of the open space, along the edge of the forest on the other side. Standing on four thin legs, the water tank was cylindrical with a cone shaped top. There was a walkway with handrails that seemed to circle all the way around the tank itself.

Bella rummaged through her pack and pulled out something rod-shaped. Daryl squinted to see what it was until intense white light suddenly blinded him. Giving out a half-hearted apology, she swung the beam toward to tower.

On, off, on, off, on, off.

They stood in the darkness again. Daryl didn't have a clue on what weird ass cult shit was happening. But suddenly, a light appeared from the top of the tower. Instead of turning it on and off, the person drew a circle before shutting it off.

It wasn't until Daryl looked back at Bella when he realized how tense she was before. With the moonlight shining on her, the look of relief on her face was clear. Her shoulders slump forward as she leans against a tree, letting out a sigh. Then silently, she holds out her hand. Rick gives Daryl a look and they both reluctantly hand over their knives.

Suddenly rejuvenated, she pushed herself off of the tree and started ahead without a word. Away from the safety of the shadows of the forest trees, she marched through the overgrown grass toward the tower. Daryl shoots a look at Rick, and then both men proceed to follow after her.

Daryl immediately feels uneasy. His eyes shift around, looking for any sudden movements. Whoever is up on the tower could easily strike him and Rick down with the proper weapons. Hell, anyone else who might be watching from any side of the clearing could shoot them all down. But eventually they make it to the tower in one piece.

* * *

Bella is standing next to one of the slanted legs of the structure. From what Daryl can tell, there are rungs along the outside of the pole, indicating that one is meant to climb all the way to the top. She places her hands on a rung, preparing to climb, before she says, "wait till I'm halfway. Then you two can climb." She takes in their disbelief faces that were turned upward towards the top of the tower and adds, "I hope you guys don't mind heights."

Without waiting for a response, she begins to climb.

"The damn girl can just kick our asses out of the tower before we even get a look," Daryl shouts angrily as they make their way closer to the top. Rick is only a few feet ahead and doesn't bother with a response. Daryl forces himself to not look down to see far up they've gone.

He keeps himself going by swearing every couple of seconds to remind Rick of what a _shitty idea this is_. Daryl Dixon ain't afraid of heights, but he staunchly believes that as a hunter, he belongs on the ground.

He doesn't even notice that Rick above him anymore. Before he knew it, his hand reached for open air, and he looks up, surprised. Rick was sitting across him against the tank catching his breath. Bella was crouched on the right side of the opening with one hand on the rail, her green eyes flashing. She offered a hand out to him, which he stubbornly ignored as he hoisted himself onto the metal walkway next to Rick.

Even at night, at over a hundred feet tall, Daryl could see over the treetops as the moonlight casted a glow over the forest. He looked passed Bella to see that the walkway leads to a metal room that was built along the tank and followed the curvature of the walkway. The door leading inside was only slightly ajar, so all he could see through was the glow of a small candlelight that flickered.

Bella, untroubled by his rejection, simply stood up. Everything seemed much brighter and clearer up here. Thus, Daryl could easily see her face as she truly smiled for the first time she'd met them and said, "when you're ready, come inside to meet my daughter."


	4. Chance

"I'm June." June grinned. "Hi."

As soon as Rick and Daryl first laid eyes on Bella's daughter, the confusion and bafflement was evident on their faces. Daryl's eyes squinted at the young teen before shifting to Bella, and then back again to June. Rick cocked his head as he attempted to see some sort of resemblance between the two girls in front of him.

Bella, with her pale skin and green eyes, was standing on the far side of the narrow room, next to the door on the other side that continued the walkway. She leaned against the closed door, arms clasped behind her and thumb brushing against her tucked-in gun. June was standing a few feet away in front of her with her arms playfully crossed, head tilted, and brown eyes sparkling. Her naturally curly hair was bunched into two buns that sat on her head. June's dark, caramel toned skin softly glowed in the candlelight.

Rick and Daryl stood in front of the other door that they entered through. They're all in a narrow room that had acted as some sort of control room for the water tower. The control desk that once spanned along the wall had been tore out by Bella and June when they first established this as their camp. In its place was a small, blown-up twin sized mattress. Above it were cupboards that still remained from before.

Bella tried not to give anything away and attempted to maintain a neutral expression. But when June looked back at her and sent a wink, Bella couldn't help but let a smile slip. She raised an eyebrow at Rick, who was, at that point, trying to recover from his obvious staring.

He cleared his throat, walked forward till he was in front of June, got on one knee, and stuck out his hand. "Hello, June. I'm Rick and this," he waved to Daryl who was still plainly gawking at them, "is Daryl. Uh, how old are you, June, if you don't mind me asking?"

Bella tried not to enjoy this to enjoy this too much. June, however, was making her amusement quite obvious. "I'm thirteen," she said as she shook his hand, her smile still in place.

At that, the two men both looked at Bella. Their next question was obvious, but Bella decided to let this continue just a little bit longer and patiently waited for them to ask.

"Well, Bella, if you don't mind me asking you the same, how old are you? You just look very young to have a daughter June's age."

Rick's discomfort at asking such a thing did not match the mirth that filled Bella. The stress and exhaustion she had been enduring for the past couple of days from being away for so long seemed to have faded away as soon as June sent her flashlight signal. Earlier, they both had agreed she'd be back by that morning, no matter what. But Bella was convinced that the other men would lead her to their base by that night, and thus stayed out longer than they planned.

But she was back. With June. So, she was in a pretty great mood, despite the fact that two morons had ended up tagging along.

"I'm twenty-seven," Bella paused as they did the math in her head, her lip twitching. "And, no, she's not mine, at least biologically."

Before they could say anything else, Bella reached up to the cupboard and opened one, taking care not to show its contents to her new guests. She took out a few blankets, two cans of beef stew, and another bottle of water and tossed them toward the two.

"Here. You guys can sleep over there." She pointed towards the space they were already standing in. "It's not much, but it's better than the floor." _It'll be cramped, but it's not like they've got many options_ , Bella thought.

She plopped herself down to the end of the bed closest to the men, taking care not to knock over the candle placed in the middle of the room. June sat close to her, matching the way Bella was sitting. Bella glanced down, making sure she can see the grip of June's gun.

* * *

 _Bella hoisted herself up onto the walkway. June immediately flung herself into Bella's arm before whispering, "where have you been? And who are those two with you?"_

 _Bella pulled back, eyes instinctually taking June in, making sure she looked healthy and unharmed. "Later. Right now, stash all the weapons away, so that they can't see them. They seem alright, but I don't want to take the chance."_

 _They both looked down and saw that the first person, Rick, had a third more of the way to go._

 _"Grab a gun for yourself and tuck it in your waistband like I showed you, okay?" June nodded. "If you think you need to use it,_ don't hesitate. _Otherwise, keep quiet and be cautious. No matter what."_

 _Bella again hugged her before lightly pushing her toward the room. "Go. And stay in there. We'll come to you."_

* * *

"Go to sleep," Bella murmured to June. "I'll take first watch and wake you up later."

June frowned. Shadows flickered across her face. "You've been out there for days. You need rest."

Ignoring the watchful eyes of Rick and Daryl, Bella didn't bother with a response and instead shot her a warning glance. June rolled her eyes, but with a dramatic huff, she scooted to the side of the bed against the wall and rolled to her side.

There was a fat chance that she would actually go to sleep, Bella knew. Not with everyone else in this cramped hall still awake. But having her to the side allowed Bella to be more focused with the matters at hand.

The two men were only a few feet away from her. The candle separated them, causing shadows and light to flash and flicker along their faces. They'd been eating quietly on top of their blankets. Daryl had his back against the door with one arm propped on top of a bent knee, his other leg stretched out in front of him, and Rick was resting against the opposite wall of Bella and June.

Rick didn't seem that bad. If he really was a sheriff from before, she figured that was a decent job as any to prove he wasn't a sketch guy. He's been nothing but respectful and grateful, but Bella knows it's not like he has many options.

Now Daryl, however, hasn't said a word since he came up. Bella only heard a few colorful words and "psycho bitch" before he reached the top of the ladder. She decided not to take offense, given his precarious state and the fact that they followed her demands. But she can tell that he was just waiting for Bella to slip up and provide a reason not to trust her. She can respect that, but that means she also has to keep an eye out.

They took a risk coming with her, so maybe she can afford to give a little leeway to Daryl for simply not being social enough.

Finished with his meal, Rick placed his can next to him and looked to Bella. She sat on the corner of her bed, knees pulled into her chest and arms wrapped around them. She hadn't taken off her glove or guard and still had her quiver slung on her back. Her bow lied on the bed next to June.

"So," he said.

"So," she said. Bella leaned back and tilted her head as she studied them. "What're both of your stories? To be quite honest, we've only seen a couple of people come through here, and not all of them nice, as you know."

Daryl and Rick exchanged looks. At first, Bella thought they weren't going to divulge their backgrounds. Not that their story mattered a damn at a time like this, but who knows? Maybe better safe than sorry.

But then Rick began to speak, and she listened.

* * *

Daryl watched Bella as Rick, not to Daryl's surprise, began to tell his sob story. He went on about being a deputy with the perfect family, getting shot so honorably, and waking up in the hotel. He continued to recount his tale that led him to Atlanta, where he then had the luck to come across the camp his very wife and son, and Daryl, were at.

"We've been traveling for the past five days to Fort Benning. If there's something still standing, it has to be there."

Daryl noted Rick left out the fiasco that happened at the CDC and skipped over the details about Merle. Didn't want to give the girl any reason to not trust him. Daryl glowered at the candle.

The whole time Rick spoke, Bella sat with chin resting on her knees, eyes never wavering from Rick's face. Hell, she barely seemed to blink. Even Rick seemed to shift every now and then, unsettled by her piercing gaze. Instead, her emerald eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight. Unmoving, her eyes looked like they came from some doll.

The way they were so still cemented the idea to Daryl that this woman was a hunter. During a hunt, when you're following game, you gotta see all and most importantly, stay still. To blend in is to not attract attention. Every movement she made was subtle but purposeful. The way she stood to the back earlier when they first met June was, Daryl knew, a way to keep her eye on all of them. She did that back in the cabin.

What was more maddening to Daryl, however, was her expression. Or _lack of it_ for that matter. Every time she spoke to them, she schooled her face into a blank, neutral look. The only time he's seen anything else was when she saw the light from the tower and when June was introduced. So, only around June her façade cracks. Besides an occasional slight frown or a small upturn of her lips, she kept her composure.

Rick finished his story, and he settled back. Bella didn't say anything. Instead, she stared contemplatively at the fire, not divulging what she thought with either words or expression.

Daryl did not take the silence well. He wanted to know who the hell this woman and her "daughter" were. He wanted to break that damn mask and know who they were dealing with.

"So," he shot at her, "what's your story?"


	5. When The World Went to Shit

Daryl hasn't said anything since he's been here, so when he first spoke, Bella and Rick looked up in surprise. She looked slightly amused if anything. A corner of her mouth twitched upwards.

"You don't have much of a bedside manner, do you?" Without waiting for a response, she stood up and walked to a cupboard, ignoring his scoff. While rummaging through it, she started to speak.

"I grew up in the foster system for as long as I can remember. I was what one would call a 'troubled kid,'" she said using air quotation marks. She closed the cupboard revealing a small white tube in her hand.

"I bounced around for a while." She then picked up _his_ crossbow, which was propped up against the corner farthest from Daryl. Ignoring his scowl, Bella sat back down on her original spot.

"When I was fourteen, I ended up with an old couple, Joshua and Darlene. Her grandparents." She nodded towards June's form, which was suspiciously too still for someone who was sleeping. Bella uncapped the lid of the tube, which resembled something like a glue stick, and began to rub it lightly on the string of his crossbow. Daryl recognized her intentions, and it added furthermore to his confusion.

"They set me straight. They never adopted me; they were too old for that. But they took care of me like I was their own, and I lived with them on their ranch for the next few years." Her hand paused. She stared intently at the crossbow, avoiding the attentive eyes of the two strangers.

"They passed away when I had just turned eighteen. I took it hard and fell into deep shit. I essentially disappeared and did whatever the hell I wanted, no matter what cost to my health."

She capped the wax tube and began to gently rub in the wax into the string with her slim fingers.

"One day when I was twenty-one, I got a call from the police. June's mother, Joshua and Darlene's only child, had got into a car accident. This left behind her own seven-year-old daughter, who had no other family. Not even her father." She shrugged, a smile ghosting her lips. The flame whipped suddenly; her eyes looked as though they were made of a forest green fire.

"I was the closest thing to a family member they could find. I thought to myself, 'she could end up in the system exactly like I did. She'd go through the same shit I did. Or she could stay with me.'" Bella looked back at June with a soft smile. There it is: the crack. The love she has for June shows. That much is obvious even to Daryl.

"I had to clean up my act and let go of a lot of toxic shit in my life. It was hard, but she got me through it." She looked back at them, suddenly serious. "Everything I do is for her. _Everything."_

The newly waxed crossbow sat in her lap, forgotten. "When the whole world went to shit, June and I were staying at the family ranch, which was right next to the forest. We thought we'd be safe there, but we were too close to the highway. People began to loot, and phone lines and electricity started to come down. I knew we wouldn't be safe for much longer. I learned how to hunt and shoot in this forest, so I took the chance. We packed our bags, and since then," she waved her hand to the room, "we have supported ourselves."

Bella grabbed a rag and wiped the wax off her hands. When she was done, she spoke softly.

"It's been a long day. We don't have to talk about more till tomorrow." Leaving little room for argument, she said, "rest. I'll keep watch and wake you all up at dawn. We'll talk more then."

Bella leaned over, her ponytail falling over her shoulder, and gently blew out the candle, submerging them in the dark.

* * *

He was lying with his back against the door – a way to make sure that whoever goes in or out, at least from this side, had to go through him. Eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out the silhouette of Bella. She's still sitting on the end of the mattress, where his feet are. She's leaning against the wall, looking out of the only window.

Daryl watches her for a bit. He has a nagging suspicion that she knew he was awake and staring. But still he looks, daring her to look his way. The moon casted a glow over her upturned face, making it the clearest thing for him to see.

After a while, she finally turns to him. He looks back directly, a challenge in his eyes. To his relief, with her back against the light, the green of her eyes was difficult to decipher.

Finally, to his satisfaction, Bella is the first to look away. She resumes back to looking out the window. But there's a smile on her lips, and a ghost of a chuckle escapes.

Disgruntled, he rolled onto his back. Looking up at the rusty metal ceiling, he thinks about what he learned. The pieces began to fall into place. If what she said was true, then this woman has been raising herself for most of her life. She's a survivor. It's why she's still here, thriving in however one can during an apocalypse. It's why she took her daughter away from civilization into the woods. It's why she killed.

At some point, in the middle of his musing, he drifts off into sleep.

* * *

Something jabs into Bella's arm. She lets out a quiet groan. Something jabs again. She throws her arm out toward the offending finger. When Bella groggily opens one eye, she sees a grinning June bent over her.

Without a word, June points a finger to the window, indicating that the sun was beginning to rise. The room was cast in a calming blue glow: not dark enough to be night, but not bright enough to be day. To her relief, Bella could see the sleeping forms of Rick and Daryl still there in front of the window.

Bella scoots toward the end of the bed, allowing June to take her place underneath the quilt. She sticks out her tongue to her daughter when she sees June relishing in her leftover body warmth. June responds in kind before rolling over, and it is isn't long before she's letting out a soft snore.

Tired as she is, Bella takes the time to take in the outside view. This is always her favorite time of the day: before the sun begins to peak through with its golden rays, everything is washed over with a soft blue cast. It's calming, and she enjoys the peace of being the only one awake. She uses this time to prepare herself on how to approach the two men.

Once she sees the first peak of gold shining above the trees, Bella pulls out her hair tie to free the rest of her hair, half of which had fallen out during her sleep. Her thick, wavy strands settles down to the middle of her back before she begins to redo her ponytail. Finished, Bella laces up her black combat boots and puts on her arm guard and glove. After rummaging through one of the cabinets, she pulls out a small bowl of fresh blackberries. Bella assumes June went out on her own to find them. Bella had only taught her where to find them a week ago, so, feeling quite proud, Bella smiles and closes the cabinet.

Stifling a yawn, she quietly makes her way over to the sleeping forms of Rick and Daryl. Crouching, she gently shakes Rick awake. He pulls back immediately, disoriented and confused by his unfamiliar surroundings. Giving him space, Bella moves over to Daryl. Pursing her lips and looking down at him, she decides to wake him up in a similar fashion, albeit more warily.

However, as soon as she put her hand on his shoulder, Daryl jerked violently away from her. First, he sees green. Breathing heavily, he realizes he's looking at Bella who had her hands up to signal she meant no harm. She places a finger to her lips and nods toward June. She sets the bowl of berries between Rick and Daryl and whispers, "when you're done getting ready, I'll be outside."

The sun was still young and set low over the trees when the two came out. Long shadows stretched over the clearing. The air was moist, but not stifling. Droplets of dew sprinkled the handrail. Bella was leaning against the railing and looking out over the forest. Her arms were crossed, one finger lightly tapping the cool metal.

When they walked toward her, Bella turned around. Unfazed by the distance between her and the ground, she leans back, arms still crossed. Deciding to be safe, Daryl leans back against the tank across from her and takes in her much more relaxed state. One leg is bent, her foot resting on a lower rail. Strands of her dark hair shines gold as the sun hits her. She tilts her head, a habit which Daryl picks up on indicating that she's about to speak.

"Morning." Her voice is soft and quiet. "I don't know if I'd be able to help much with your food situation. I can guide you to where you need to be and help hunt along the way. You can have as much water as you can carry. As you can see," she unnecessarily gestures to the huge tank behind them, "we have plenty."

"We thank you for that, Bella," Rick says, smiling. Deputy Friendly had donned his hat back on. Typical.

"But before we plan for anything like that, Daryl and I would like to offer you and your daughter to come back with us. To our camp."

This was something Rick and he discussed back at the cabin when Bella was scouting the other rooms and pulling her arrow out of Roy's fat head. They weren't sure what kind of person she'd turn out to be, and thus not even sure if they'd end up inviting her. But even then, Daryl knew it wasn't safe for a woman to run around with men like Roy out in the forest. Now knowing that she isn't some murderous bitch out to get everyone, it seemed safe to ask her.

Daryl saw the slight change in her stance. The way her shoulders slumped forward as she let out a soft sigh. Her foot came down as she planted herself. Her eyebrows furrowed, and a small frown replaced her previous clear and calm expression. Bella didn't say anything, but instead bit her lip. Rick picked up on this too and continued speaking earnestly.

"We've got other women and children back with us. It doesn't feel right to let the two of you alone up here."

Bella turned around to face the sun and gripped the railing. She tapped her fingers against the metal, a rhythm revealing itself. "But why should we," she asked not unkindly. "June and I have been here almost since the start, and we've been _good._ We've been safe. So why should we give that up to come with you guys?"

"Because," said Daryl. She looked back at him, eyebrow raised. "You said it yourself. Those men were comin' close to where ya live. That's why you went out in the first place, ain't it? There will always be them and others tryin' to take what you have."

He tapped the tank with his knuckles. "This ain't gonna last forever. The best thing for you and your little girl is to join up with others."

Daryl didn't necessarily have to like her. He barely liked anyone. But he did recognize that this woman would be a benefit to have. She could hunt and handle herself – characteristics that they sorely lacked back at the camp. The better it would be for him and everyone else.

When she didn't say anything, Rick jumped in. "The best chance for survival right now is people. You're going to need others to watch your back. When you have to leave to do anything, she," Rick pointed to the room where June still rested, "will always have someone looking after her. And so would you. You don't have to do this alone."

Daryl and Rick waited for a response. Bella still had her hands against the railing, fingers tapping. She was looking out at the forest, which was now bathed in sunlight. Her foot began to tap against the metal walkway.

"Okay," she said shortly. "Okay," she repeated. "But it's not up to me."

She turned back around to face them. "Like I said, everything I do is for June. So if you can convince her to come with you, we'll join."

Rick smiled. This is basically yes as far as Daryl is concerned.

Bella pointed to the door. "Wake her up and do your thing. I'll wait out here."

* * *

Grimes was in the middle of blabbing on and on about the trusty and heroic people back at the camp. Daryl couldn't help but snort when Rick spoke of "Glenn's great ingenuity and bravery" and "Dale's exceptional advice."

Daryl could tell the little girl was already hooked. She was sitting on the bed, legs crisscrossed and leaning forward, eagerly listening to Rick's colorful descriptions. So, it wasn't a surprise when June interrupted Rick's story about Shane and their old high school principal's car to let out an enthusiastic "yes!"

At some point along Rick's stories, Bella came up and leaned against the doorway. She had a soft smile as she listened along. Daryl figured it was less because of the tales themselves but instead because of June's excitement. It has probably been a while since the little girl had anyone else to speak to.

Daryl saw the tilt of her head and waited for her response. But instead of her soft voice speaking, a booming voice from the ground cut through the calm morning air.

"You little psycho bitch. Come on out of there, so we can finally introduce ourselves!"


	6. Control

"Fuck." Everyone froze. "Fuck," Bella repeated. She ducked and moved toward the window. Careful not to show herself from the outside, she pressed herself against the wall next to it, glanced down toward the clearing, and assessed the situation.

"Darling, why don't you c'mon out and gift us with your beautiful face?"

In the clearing stood the other five men of Roy's group. Three were close, only about twenty feet away from the ladder. Two were farther out, closer to the edge of the forest. No doubt in case things go south for the gentlemen up close. From the way the men were standing, they could only see the door she just came through, not the back door. Bella's eyes quickly took in their shotguns and breathed out a sigh of relief. No automatic rifles or anything too heavy.

Crouching, she ignored Rick and Daryl's tense presence, moved underneath the window, and headed toward the other door. She gave a motion to June who, without question, followed to come outside with her and prop the door open. Once outside, Bella turned around and reached up above the doorway. Her hand patted the roof of the room, until, to her relief, she felt a strap. Ranking on it, she pulled off a large and heavy duffle bag.

"C'mon out, sweetheart. We know you up all alone. We just want to know if Aiden and Will are with ya."

Bella shoved the bag into June's arms. Away from the ears of the two men, she whispered fiercely, "pack everything you think we'd need: clothes and equipment. But do not let those two see what's inside here."

Bella grabbed June and pushed her back into the room. Rick and Daryl were on either side of the window looking down. As June scrambled to grab essentials, Bella beckoned them to move away from the window. As they crept toward her, she spoke quickly as she reached up above the cupboards. She grabbed and revealed a high-powered rifle and a long-range rifle.

"June, take them down the back ladder. It's facing away from all of them out there, and the forest will give you cover to escape. Head to our rendezvous. You remember where it is?" June nodded. Bella felt like she could barely hear herself speak. Her heartbeat was pounding, and adrenaline was coursing through her. However, she could see June was scared, so Bella forced herself to not let her own fear show. June was strong. So was she.

"Sweetheart -" The thunderous voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Shut the hell up and be patient," Bella hollered back, causing everyone to jump.

"Wait two hours for me. If I'm not back by then, head to their camp, and I'll find you. I promise." She whirled toward the two stunned and, again, useless men with a ferocious expression on her face. "If _anything_ happens to her, I _will_ hunt you down and cut your dicks off. You understand?"

"What you talkin' about," Daryl looked at Bella incredulously as she peered back out the window. "We ain't leavin' you with them."

"No, you ain't leaving _her,"_ she pointed towards June, "with them. They don't know all of you are here or about the back ladder. Even if they did know about that ladder, we made sure it was a one-way trip down so that it wasn't possible for anyone to climb up. And those idiots," she nodded her head down at the men, "unfortunately aren't dumb enough to try climbing up this ladder since they know I can just shoot them down. But still, with them standing down there like that, I can just pick them off."

She grabbed Daryl's crossbow and Rick's guns and shoved them back in their arms. June had just finished gathering their supplies. "Go now. Don't stop no matter what. And please," with her back toward June, she let her desperation slip to Rick and Daryl, "keep her safe."

Bella turned around to kiss June's forehead and give a quick "I love you" before heading to the door with her rifles.

As she reached for the door, she heard Daryl's voice finally respond. "We will."

Feeling only slightly relieved, Bella opened the door. Crouching down, she slid the rifles onto the walkway, preventing the men in the clearing from seeing. She then stood and, with a straight back and confident walk, placed a fake grin on her face.

"Hello, boys."

As the door swung to a close, the June, Rick, and Daryl were gifted with a parting image: Bella standing tall and, following a dramatic flourish, sticking up her middle finger to those down below.

* * *

"Be careful," June whispered as Daryl swung his legs over. Her hair buns looked ridiculous. "At the bottom, we took out the rungs. You're going to have to slide down the pole a bit."

Knowing there's a kid nearby, Daryl tried to hold in his swearing. It was hard considering his ass was hanging out a hundred feet up in the air. He vaguely recognized that the crazy woman was shouting from the other side of the tank. But the words didn't process as he attempted to control his breathing. As long as he didn't hear any bullets, it was fine by him.

When Daryl was a couple feet down, he looked up to see June beginning to climb down after him and Rick standing guard. Not like Rick would be able to see shit anyways. The three were behind the water tank, and since the leg they were climbing down on was on the opposite side of the clearing, Daryl would have to look around the pole to see the men. That could potentially attract the attention of those down there and reveal their escape.

 _Escape_. He wanted to scoff. That Bella just kicked them out and put them on high-risk babysitting duty. It also didn't sit right with him to leave her up there on her own. But Daryl knew she was right when she said they couldn't get up to her. It was a small comfort. And the three of them haven't been shot yet, so that means the men haven't seen them and are still oblivious to what's happening.

Focused on the rungs in front of his eyes, Daryl's stomach dropped when his foot didn't connect with anything but air. Remembering the kid's words, he looked down and saw that there was about fifteen feet left to slide down. At least the pole was at an angle, so it shouldn't be too rough.

Promising himself he'd never go on a run with Rick again, Daryl let go of the rung and slid down the rest of the way. He let out a swear as the air flew by him – the pole was pressing in all the wrong places. His body jolted when his feet struck the ground.

Soon the girl and sheriff made their way down to him. Crouching low, the three quickly made their way to the forest that was only about a dozen feet ahead of them.

Daryl couldn't hear Bella anymore. But glancing back he saw that the men haven't moved. He gripped his crossbow tighter.

It was only when they couldn't see the water tower past the trees did Daryl allow himself to relax. But only a little. He cast a look towards the girl – _June._ He expected to see a scared little girl who was about to start bawling. Instead, she was looking straight forward with a determination that Daryl knew she could only pick up from her mom. She gripped a gun _(where the hell did she even get that from?)_ that had a silencer attached down at her side. June was holding it correctly and everything, and she was ready to use it.

Daryl exchanged a look with Rick. Rick raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

The kid pushed her way ahead and began to silently lead them to this rendezvous - wherever the hell that was supposed to be.

Rick attempted to comfort her. "Your mom – she's tough. We've only just met her, and we can tell she can handle her stuff."

It was at that point that the sound of gunshots began to bounce throughout the forest. The three instinctively ducked. Tense, they waited for bullets to come their way. When nothing came, they slowly stood up. June shot a reproachful look at Rick before continuing to walk.

As they went further into the forest, the gunshots began to become more sporadic and far apart. There were times when it stopped altogether only for it to begin to pick up as long as five minutes later. At some point, it became total silence.

* * *

They've been walking for over half an hour when the three finally reached a small clearing. Here, one of the tall thin trees that populated just about everywhere in Georgia had snapped. It's remains were sprawled across the opening.

June simply dropped her duffle bag on the floor, sat down against the base of the fallen tree, and began to take watch by looking in the direction of the water tower. Rick sat down on the log. Daryl could tell he was concerned for the little girl by the way he was keeping watch on her. No doubt feels obligated after that woman basically did a suicide stunt.

Daryl shook his head. As much as he may not like it, shit happens. Although she had the literal higher ground, Bella was outgunned and outnumbered. The idea of that woman coming out within the next hour and a half was hard to swallow.

Daryl began pacing along the length of the tree. After that ruckus of a fight, walkers in the past five-mile radius are probably making their trek for a good meal. As he checked his crossbow, he blocked his mind from thinking about who was responsible for the newly waxed string. Instead he made sure the string was taut and his bolt was ready.

When the better of an hour had passed and still no sign, Daryl glanced at the girl. She was still resiliently keeping watch, but she kept blinking fast, and he saw her hand was gripping hard on her gun.

A twig snapping broke his attention. The three immediately raised their weapons toward the noise. Toward the water house. He briefly entertained the thought of it being Bella, but instead an ugly-ass walker in an inappropriatly cheery yellow dress stumbled toward them. Daryl was ready to shoot, but before he could, the walker was already falling back from a shot to the head.

Surprised, Rick and Daryl looked at June who was still sitting on the ground. Daryl raised an eyebrow. So, the girl could shoot. With a mother like Bella who always seemed to be ready and, if the past few days had shown anything, had to occasionally leave her daughter behind, it made sense for Bella to teach June how to defend herself. At least she wasn't like the mothers back at camp who only seemed to coddle and indulge their kids.

Daryl nodded at the girl in approval. She ignored him and continued to look out for her mom. But he could see her eyes becoming watery. He sighed and leaned against a tree.

"Nice shot," he said. "Who taught you?"

June kicked a pebble next to her foot. "My mom," she mumbled.

Rick leapt in. "Did she teach you after all of this," he asked, waving toward the walker.

She shook her head. "She taught me before. Sometimes she'd even take me hunting with her. Bella said my grandpa was a 'weapons enthusiast,'" June said with air quotations. "I think she wanted me to be able to connect with them by hunting with her and living at their old ranch. Still, after the world ended, she didn't give me a gun right away."

Daryl slung his crossbow across his back. He pulled out a slightly crushed cigarette from his pocket. He planned on saving it for a stressful time. This definitely counted as a stressful time.

As he lit it, June pursed her lips in disapproval. Just like her goddamn mom. He ignored it and asked, "how come? 'Cause she thought you were too young?"

She shifted and began tugging at her boot laces with her free hand. "Nah. Whenever a biter came close, I'd get scared. When I asked for a gun, she said only if I let her give me lessons, even though I already knew how to shoot."

June looked at the gun in her hand. "For my first lesson, she didn't even bring me a gun to use. Instead, we climbed a tree. Whenever a biter came, she'd attract its attention. It would come and try to reach us."

She stretched her arms out, mimicking a biter. "It would be inches away, just snarling at us. I was scared, but Bella distracted me." She gave a weak chuckle. "She just kept going on and on about random things. School, dinner, shows. When I finally calmed down, she gave me her knife and showed me how to kill it. And I did."

June looked up at the two men. "We did that for a bit. When I wasn't scared anymore, Bella brought me down. This time, she would let the walker walk right up to us before she'd stab it herself. When I stopped getting scared of it coming close, she then gave me a gun."

She shrugged and looked back out. "She thought that first I had to learn how to control my fear."

Rick nodded thoughtfully and scratched his chin. "That's very wise of her, and it definitely seemed to pay off," he said sincerely.

They were quiet after that. Daryl squinted at the sun. Hell, it wasn't even noon yet.

After a while, when Daryl stomped out his cigarette, he began to prepare for the conversation they were to have with June. There was no easy way to convince someone to leave behind their family. He barely accepted leaving Merle. But it is what it is.

Before he could speak to Rick, June suddenly shot up and ran forward. Daryl swore and swung his crossbow back around. Before he could do anything, he saw June jump into the arms of a very much sweaty, very much alive, Bella.

Well, shit.

Rick shook his head in disbelief. Daryl shared an incredulous look with him before looking back at Bella, who was now holding hands with June.

Looking out of breath, Bella stalked her way over to the two men. With the intensity she was moving, Daryl tensed, remembering her last warning to the two men. But to his shock, her arms were suddenly around him. Before he could process the fact that this woman who threatened to castrate them not two hours ago was now hugging him, she quickly let go and gave Rick one in turn.

"Thank you," she said sincerely. Gone was the suspicion and aloofness she'd show them before. Now, her eyes were wide and bright. She was still breathing heavy from her quick trek. She had a sheen of sweat on her face. And she had the most blinding smile Daryl's ever seen. "Thank you for protecting her." Her vivid eyes moved from Rick to Daryl's, expressing her gratefulness.

"I think it should be us thanking you," said Rick, who was still in disbelief but now smiling. "I can honestly say I am glad to see you are okay."


	7. Is It Dead

Getting over the initial shock of seeing Bella alive, Daryl took in her grimy appearance. In one hand, she held her black bow. She also carried a large duffle bag similar to the one June has. Covered in mud and dirt, it looked as though it had seen better days. Along with her quiver, several rifles and shotguns were slung across her shoulders. Definitely more than the two she had with her the last time they saw her.

She had flecks of blood on one cheek – the same one with her bruised cheekbone. She wore the same clothes she wore when they first met – the jeans, white tank, and green plaid. Before, they were a bit spotty with the usual muck, but now splatters of fresh walker gore stained most of her tank, leaving it more red than white. It was then that Daryl noticed that not all of the blood came just from walkers.

"I'm fine." Bella brushed away June's concerned hand from the cut below her collarbone. "When I got everyone in the clearing, I came down to grab these from them." She gestured toward the newly acquired guns she was carrying. "One guy with a shot leg managed to jump me."

She shrugged, pleased. "All in all - could've been worse."

Bella dropped her duffle bag and removed the rifles from her back. "Here," she held out the guns toward Rick and Daryl. "I can't carry all of these along with all of my stuff."

They took those from her, accepting both the guns and her trust.

"Good thing ya came back," said Daryl. "'Cause we now need to find our way outta here."

Bella nodded and then crouched down next to her duffle. She unzipped a side pocket to pull out a folded-up map. After spreading it out on the ground, she looked up at Rick. "Where did you say the herd was?"

While Rick and Daryl moved to join her, Bella looked back at June. "Keep watch for us."

June nodded seriously, much to Daryl's amusement, and proceeded to look into the forest diligently.

Rick pointed to a spot on I-85. "It was here last time we saw it." He moved his finger north, off to the side of the highway. "This is where we camped out."

"Can't you just draw them away," June called out, still not looking away from any possible threat.

"The problem with that is we ain't got enough gas," Daryl spoke. With one hand on his crossbow, he used his other to point at a stretch of road. "We'd have to backtrack twenty miles up 'ere and loop all the way around. It's a waste of fuel n' time."

Bella frowned. Tilting her head, she considered the map. "What's wrong with going to the other side of the herd and leading them this way?" She pointed south of the herd and continued down the map.

Rick scratched his chin. "The issue with that is we are heading in that direction. We can't move our cars around them, so that means we'd be following a very slow herd for a long while."

She squinted at the map. Leaning forward, she rested her finger on a town off of I-85 south of the herd. "Us four could head here instead. There will definitely be cars there for me to hotwire. Then, maybe we could drive up north to the herd and lead them back to the town. It isn't that far from the herd, so it shouldn't take too long to get them down there."

Daryl studied the route. "'Could work. We wouldn't be able to backtrack to the highway the same way. But if we keep headin' south we could reenter at the next entrance. By then, the road should be clear for us to just turn around to head back up to the camp."

Rick nodded. He looked to Bella. "How far away are we from the town? Would we be able to finish this by tonight?"

She smiled and pointed at their location on the map. "We are over here - just a couple of hours away from the town. We should be able to get there before sunset."

"Right," nodded Daryl. He stood up, grabbed June's duffle, and swung it around his shoulders. "Best not to waste time."

* * *

"Hey, Rick." Rick and Daryl looked back towards Bella. "If you don't mind, there's something I'd like to talk about."

They had spent the first half of the trek in relative peace, only interrupted a handful of times by the presence of lone biters. Taking turns to discard the biters, the group was hardly stressed or strained by them. Bella had been taking the chance to catch up with her daughter, as it's been days since they've actually been able to settle back and talk. Speaking quietly, but with smiles and chuckles, the two have been trailing behind Daryl and Rick.

Every now and then, when a squirrel or other critter scuttled its way past them, either Daryl or Bella would take a shot. To the amusement of Bella, and Daryl, even if he didn't seem to want to admit or show it, it had become some sort of unspoken game. Whenever one would manage to pick one off, they'd exchange a look. For Bella, it was a faint smile or a small snort, and Daryl would return an amused look in kind, albeit a subtle one. To anyone else looking, it would've been hard to read his expression, but she could see that he was enjoying himself.

Bella hadn't seen Daryl in action with his crossbow until now. Before this, for all she knew, he could've been some amateur or wannabe with a crossbow. But now, seeing him pick off biters and squirrels alike, her standards for fellow bowmen have been satisfied.

It was comforting for her to know that he was a good shot. A great one even – even though she wouldn't admit it. Not that Bella needed to say it, since Daryl surely knew. Just like he knew that so was she.

Rick nodded and fell back, while June went up ahead to join Daryl. Keeping an eye on her, Bella began to speak.

"I put my faith in the two of you to watch June, and you both did. And for that, I am grateful. It also allowed me to gain some sort of insight on what kind of people you have back at your camp. But I just want to make sure about something." Eyebrows furrowed, she looked to Rick, who wore a similar serious expression. "If, for some reason, June or I want to leave, I want your word that you won't stop us. This is for her," she said looking at June. "It is up to whether she feels safe or wants to be there. I don't know what your people are like."

Her eyes flashed threateningly. "But I do know I can protect her with or without you."

To Bella's surprise, Rick chuckled. He shook his head good-naturedly. "You've been through so much, that you have forgotten that there are still decent people out there. We've lost a lot, but that doesn't mean we lost our humanity. But I swear to you, it will always be your choice."

Bella nodded, relieved. Although her demands have been satisfied, Rick still walked beside her. She realized that he was trying to form the words for another conversation.

"I already think that you are a good person, Bella. I've seen you with your daughter and the dedication you have to her. You've been nothing but fair to Daryl and me. But I have to know: how many people have you killed?"

Bella had been expecting this talk at some point. Still, she couldn't help but fall back to an old comfort habit. With her face smoothed out, her neutral expression took place. She sighed and looked at Rick. Answering honestly, she said, "eight." She paused. "Ten if you counted the two I tied up. Leaving them there and now knowing the rest of their men didn't find them – I as good as killed them."

His face was just as guarded. "Why?"

"You already know about eight of them." She looked back in front of her to June, who was oblivious to the conversation. "She doesn't know about the first two. You know how I told you that once people began looting, I decided to bring June to the forest?"

Rick nodded. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he was watching her intently. Maybe waiting for a lie.

"Well, the day before we left, I decided to inspect the town across the highway from us. To head there, however, I had to pass my neighbors' house." She paused, trying to figure out how to go on. "There's only them between our ranch and the highway. I wanted to stop by to check in on them. But when I got there the door was wide open and it was quiet."

Bella sighed and for a moment they walked in silence. Daryl looked over his shoulder, clearly knowing what kind of conversation was taking place. No doubt that he and Rick planned on asking her this. He briefly studied their expressions before turning back around.

"I walked in and found them shot dead on the floor. They were as old as the couple who took me in." She shook her head and gripped her bow tighter. "It was then I started to hear voices from the hallway. I hid in the kitchen and listened. There were two men talking about what to take – what to steal. I thought about running away, but then one guy said, 'maybe the next house will have something better.'"

"They were going to go after you and June next." Rick didn't ask. He stated it because he already knew.

Still, Bella nodded. "I snuck out the house to run back to June, but they saw me moving outside. They started shooting at me, so I shot back. When it ended, I wanted to look at them. I wanted to see their faces."

Suddenly angry, she kicked at a stray rock. It bounced off of a tree, unharmed. "I recognized who they were. Couple of college kids from the town next over who were back home for the summer. I don't know why they resorted to killing innocent people, and I'll still never know."

Distantly, Bella was aware that June began babbling to Daryl. But Bella was focused on Rick.

"I understand the choices you've made," Rick said. In thought, he looked ahead without really seeing. "I really do. But you've got to understand that back in our camp, none of us have dealt with the kinds of people you've run into. None of us had to make the choices you've made."

He sighed and shifted the guns' straps into a more comfortable position before continuing. "So, I think it would be best for all of us to refrain from speaking about what had happened to those men back there. I trust you, but I'm not sure others will if they hear about this."

Bella nodded. "I understand."

Rick then looks at her in the eye. "I am going to also have to ask that you try to avoid from doing anything like that when you join us. We don't kill the living."

At that, Bella stops walking. Uneasy, Rick does too and turns to look at her. Bella shakes her head and lets out a tired chuckle. When she speaks, her voice is soft and gentle. "You say you understand, but you don't. You don't get it."

Rick frowns and steps forward. "What don't I understand? Help me to."  
She tilts her head and looks at him with something akin to sympathy. "That one day you are going to have to kill. In this world, everyone will have to. It's just a matter of when."

At that, she passes Rick to join up with the waiting figures of June and Daryl.

* * *

Daryl leaned against the trunk of a beat-up red Chevy truck. Eyes sweeping the desolate and grungy remnants of Main Street, he moved his finger, so it was resting on the trigger of his crossbow. June stood at one intersection a couple feet away, diligently keeping watch. Rick, who was positioned at the other end of the street in front of a bar, looked like he was in a damn play with his sheriff costume. As the sun got lower, their shadows stretched farther across the cement.

Hearing a soft swear, Daryl glanced down. Bella's legs were sprawled out onto the street, propping herself up. Her back lied on the Chevy's floor, allowing her top half to rest underneath the steering wheel console. He couldn't really see what she was doing; he would just hear an occasional thud as either her elbow or head banged against the truck's interior.

"How's it goin' down there?" He tried not to let his doubt slip through. He reasoned that after all the shit this woman has done, she should accomplish starting up this dusty piece of junk.

"Just terrific." Her voice was muffled. "Just a bit of a tight squeeze."

"Better you than me then." Daryl scanned the street once more. A soft pop echoed the street as June dispatched a walker that stumbled its way toward them with her silencer. He heard a stifled grunt of agreement from beneath the steering wheel.

 _Thump._ Rick slid out his knife from the limp head of the fallen walker.

"How'd you learn how to do this kinda stuff?"

He saw her right leg suddenly bend underneath her. Putting her weight on her foot, she answered, "'troubled kid', remember? I was pretty much a little brat that took joy in being the biggest pain in the ass possible."

Daryl snorted. "I can see that."

June and Rick took out five more walkers. Tense, Daryl kept an eye on the kid. On the other side of the Chevy, a walker started stumbling its way toward them. Mouth wide, it fell back as one of his bolts embedded itself in its nasty head.

Daryl rapped his knuckles on the truck as he propped his crossbow back up. Moving around to quickly pull the bolt back out, he called out to Bella. "How much longer? Them walkers are starting to notice us."

She didn't seem to bother with a response. June took out another one. On edge, he stalked his way around, still watching the little girl. Tense, he spoke out again. "Hey –"

Just then a loud roar from its engine interrupted Daryl. Bella quickly sat up. The sun had washed everything in a golden hue, including her skin. Picking up her quiver and bow that was resting next to her feet, she threw it to the passenger's side before settling in the driver's seat.

"C'mon," she called out. "It's ready."

Daryl kept his crossbow up until both June and Rick ran to the truck's doors. He clambered into the back seats along with Rick, anxiously looking around the much busier street.

"At least it's loud," Bella yelled over the thundering engine. "It certainly with attract their attention."

Rick studied the Main Street as Bella weaved her way through towards the highway. "Good thing there's not that many. Otherwise, it would be very difficult to take the herd back up here."

Sitting behind the driver's seat, Daryl couldn't see Bella. But he could see her emerald eyes flicker up to the rearview mirror and make eye contact with Daryl nodded in agreement to Rick's observation.

"June, we could use some music." There was a hint of playfulness in her tone, despite the fact that they were driving straight toward a herd.

In the passenger's seat, June had been rummaging through her bag. In response, she gave out a victorious "a-HA" and stuck out her hand. To Daryl's exasperation, he saw a slim green iPod that was connected to a USB cord.

June quickly studied the radio center of the truck. She then stuck the cord into a port. "Finally. It hasn't been charged in ages."

They had already reached the highway. Daryl rolled down the windows and pushed himself out so that half of him was sticking out of the car. He squinted toward the direction of where he knew the herd – and their camp – would be. Finally, he began to make out a squirming mass that could only be the walkers.

He fell back into his seat just when a song suddenly burst through the speakers. Daryl vaguely recognized it as a song from way back – maybe the 60s. He looked at Rick and saw the same pained expression on his own face as June raised the volume and Bella lowered the windows. 

_Where is the sun  
That shone on my head  
The sun in my life  
It is dead  
It is dead_

"It'll help draw them away," Bella practically screamed for the others to hear. Daryl felt the truck begin to slow as she turned the piece of junk back around. 

_Where is the light  
That would play  
In my streets  
And where are the friends  
I could meet  
I could meet_

He turned around to look at the herd, who clearly did not like Bella's choice of song - if the way they snarled and growled had anything to say about it. But the walkers were following them. 

_Where are the girls  
I left far behind  
The spicks and the specks  
Of the girls on my mind_

They continued their way back to the town. Daryl occasionally looked up to see the two girls grinning. Looking at the rearview mirror, he could see her green eyes glowing in the setting sun. He let out a tired sigh and looked at Rick. Rick had his elbow bent out the window, and glancing back at Daryl, he simply shook his head with a small smile. _  
_

* * *

Heading back to the camp, the group decided to leave the truck behind on the highway. The engine would alert walkers nearby and also, according to Rick, cause the camp to flip shit. That meant they would have to walk through the forest in the dark _again_ , but fortunately the camp wasn't too deep in.

Daryl took the lead. Bracing his flashlight underneath his crossbow, he diligently scoped the area as he crept forward, knees bent. There was still a chance that some stray walkers from the herd could have stuck around. If close enough, they could surely hear the group or see the flashlight.

However, although she was lugging an obviously heavy duffle (after, once again, refusing Rick and Daryl's offer to carry it), Bella was surprisingly quiet. He resisted the urge to look back and make sure she was there. He could hear the uneven gait of Rick's walk and June's lighter quickstep, but not Bella's. Daryl appreciated that she had a hunter's silent walk, but it was surreal for him to not be aware of someone's presence. Even with Merle, Daryl could recognize the periodic sniffle that followed Merle throughout his drug-filled life.

Recognizing the area, Daryl stopped and let out a small whistle, signaling the group they were almost upon the camp. He recognized Rick's gait coming closer to him and moved to the side, allowing Rick to go up ahead himself. Daryl looked back and saw June standing next to her mother. June was anxiously looking toward Rick and the camp, while her mother was looking behind them, arrow notched in her bow. Daryl also casted an uneasy look in the dark, flashing his light around them to make sure nothing was coming their way.

No one spoke as they waited for Rick to signal. They agreed earlier that since they were coming at night, Rick should go up ahead to warn the others that the rest were coming. That way their new guests wouldn't be treated with a hostile welcome.

Finally, the trio heard a low whistle. Daryl looked back to the girls as he started forward. June moved along with him, but he could see Bella's unmoving silhouette and her green eyes glinting in the dark. Unlike June, Bella looked tense. Maybe nervous?

Her sharp eyes then looked back at him. Not knowing what to say at her obvious discomfort, Daryl nodded at her. She returned one and quietly began to follow till they reached the clearing.

The RV and the rest of their other cars had made their way through the forest and were lined up as a barrier facing the deeper part of the forest. Acting as a warning for any stumbling walkers, fishing line with spare metal parts tied to it were strung all the way around the tents, all of which formed a circle behind the vehicles. It was dark and quiet, indicating that everyone was indeed sleeping in their respective tents, unaware of the four's presence. Everyone accept for Shane and Dale, who were standing next to Rick while looking curiously toward the two newcomers.

* * *

 **Did anyone recognize the song and which episode it came from? Also, I tried to write about the "birth" of Rick's "three questions" thing. In the show, we never really see how the questions came to be (I think we first see it in 4.01?). He doesn't ask the first question about walkers in this chapter, but again this is its humble beginnings. I'm going to try to incorporate some of these ~ quote quote ~ easter eggs, because I think they're just FUN.**


	8. Strangers

Daryl sat next to the fire, ignoring all the bustling movement around him. He focused on skinning and gutting the squirrels in front of him. To the relief of the waking members of their camp, he and Bella shot enough to feed all of them for the next day or so. With some of Carol's spices and cooking experience, they shouldn't be too tough for these people to eat.

Daryl had woken up right after the sun rose, which was late for his standards. But after that long night of herding walkers and trampling through the forest, he figured he deserved a break. Still, he was one of the first to rise, and everybody else had just recently left their tents. Just enough time for all of them to be updated with the wild and unusual events that Rick and Daryl endured these past two days. Certainly, enough time to develop a curiosity over the two newcomers.

Only June had come out of Dale's spare tent, so Daryl assumed that Bella was still resting. The little girl was already making her way around the camp, winning the hearts and smiles from all. Although a bit older than Sophia and Carl, she seemed to fit in just fine among the two. Eventually, she made her way to the firepit. Despite Glenn, T-Dog, and Dale also being there, she sat next to Daryl. Besides a grunt, he didn't so much look her way. Unbothered, June stared interestedly at his gutted-up squirrels. Her unflinching attention was honestly weird as hell.

"Can I try," she asked. He looked up at her with suspicion and skepticism.

"Have you ever dunnit before?"

She shrugged. "A few times."

He snorted and without noncommittedly said, "maybe when we aren't stretched thin with food options. Can't waste any of these because of your inexperience."

Unbothered, she nodded seriously. Daryl realized he was going to regret saying that, recognizing that June was going to expect him to hold up on that promise. June then simply complied to the other men's wishes and began to recount her and Bella's tale about their story since the turn.

Looking around, Daryl saw Rick finally leave his tent to approach Shane, who seemed to be waiting for him next to Dale's RV. They appeared to have begun arguing – what else is new?

Finished with a handful of squirrels, Daryl gathered them up and strode towards Carol to drop them off. She was doing laundry with Lori next to the RV, which stood all the way across camp from the fire. While folding clothes, Carol smiled in thanks as he deposited them in a pot next to her.

"It's so nice having another hunter, isn't it," she chirped. "That means less strain on you."

Daryl snorted. "With all of you hungry bastards, it's gonna be a strain no matter what."

At that point, Rick approached the three of them with a restless Shane in tow. Looking anxious – most likely from his previous conversation with Shane, Rick asked "is Bella still sleeping? I want to make sure she meets everybody before we head out."

To Daryl's surprise, Carol shook her head. "She woke up before most of us. Poor thing was still covered in blood and dirt. I told her to go inside and wash up and that I'll clean her clothes for her. She's inside right now, and I think Andrea is now patching up her cuts."

Rick nodded. "Good. After all she's done for us, I don't want her to distance herself."

At this, Shane, who stood to the side glowering, interrupted. "Well, she shouldn't be here in the first place. We already have enough people as it is to take care of and feed."

Lori threw her washing rag down. "What are you saying? Rick and Daryl said that she's saved them twice, and you think she and her _daughter_ shouldn't be here?"

Shane restlessly rocked back on his left leg, one hand in his pocket. "Our job is to take care of our own. That's you, Carl, Sophia, and everyone else here. Not strangers."  
Daryl felt his anger spike up. Known for his hot-headedness, he didn't disappoint. "Man, shut the hell up. This woman can hunt and do a hell of a lot more for us than you can."

Shane puffed up but Rick cut in. "Enough. What's done is done." He looked to Shane. "Look, you may not like it. But without her, Daryl and I wouldn't be here. You wouldn't want that, right?"

Shane hesitated, just briefly, before saying, "nah, man. We need you here." Daryl swore he saw a look on Shane's face that he didn't like. But Rick is blinded when it comes to the man he sees as his brother.

Daryl scoffed and stalked back to his spot at the fire. June had taken off to join the other kids, and the three other men were still sitting around the fire place. Blocking them out, he continued to skin the squirrels, but this time with a bit more ferociousness and force.

He's so focused on his job that he only looks up when Glenn suddenly lets out a low whistle. Glenn was staring incredulously across camp toward the RV. " _She_ is the mom?"

Daryl won't admit it, not even to himself, but when Daryl first sees Bella, he's taken aback.

Bella and Andrea had just come out of the RV, and Bella had handed her dirty clothes to Carol. Now, she was standing next to her and Lori, probably thanking them and all that shit. It was the first time Daryl had seen her in something other than her dirty jeans, tank, and plaid shirt. In their place was a loose black tank tucked into a set of loose, light blue jeans that had rips and tears across her thighs and knees. Bella wore her typical black lace-up boots, arm guard, and archer gloves.

What first surprised him was that this was the first time he's seen her with her hair down. Her inky black hair fell into loose, wild curls to her mid back. Strands of her hair naturally curled at its ends, thus framing her slim face. He saw her reach up to tuck her hair in behind her ear as she tilted her head and smiled at Carol. He could see the bright green of her eyes even from here.

That was the second thing that surprised Daryl. Bella was smiling openly and without restraint. Hell, when Daryl first met her, she pointed an arrow at his head. And she didn't dare trust them until yesterday. Even then she did it reluctantly and without any other option. So, to see her easily and quickly open herself up to others was – for lack of a better word, _new_.

The last thing he noticed was the most shocking. He was so struck by seeing it that he joined right along with the three men next to him in gaping. Along the inside of her left bicep, the side which she wore her arm band, were tattoos. This whole time, her green plaid sleeves were rolled up to below her elbow, so Daryl never saw them until now. Her tattoo covered most of the inside of her bicep and gently spiraled underneath her arm to back up her shoulder. Made of thin, elegant black lines, the flowers and leaves made the impression of vines creeping around her arm and shoulder. On the same arm, right below her elbow, were two thin black rings that circled her forearm, resembling two bracelets. The black of the ink contrasted against her pale skin, which was further emphasized by her black gear and tank.

Daryl broke out of his staring when he felt a thick drop of liquid land on his thigh. Swearing, he looked down to see that the cut open squirrel he'd been holding had oozed some of its guts onto his leg.

"Well, damn." T-Dog shook his head. "That is not what I was expecting when I heard about some crazy hunting mom."

Dale chuckled. "Glenn, son, you are gonna catch flies if you keep staring like that."

At that, Glenn shut his mouth.

T-Dog chortled. "Dude, you were totally about to drool yourself."

Now slightly annoyed by this conversation, Daryl glanced back up and realized with a jolt that Bella and Andrea were heading to the firepit. The two women were talking animatedly as they slowly made their way over.

"Shit," muttered Glenn.

Daryl decided the best way to deal with this upcoming social-fest was to look back down and continue ignoring everything that wasn't his squirrels.

He resolutely avoided looking up from the mess of slick blood and intestines when he felt Bella come up in front of him.

Andrea spoke first. "You already know Dale and Daryl." He felt her look down at him briefly. His neck prickled. "This is Glenn and T-Dog."

"Hi." Her voice light and lyrical, she sounded rather embarrassed and, well, awkward. Daryl looked up and saw her sheepishly smiling at Glenn and T-Dog. She stood only a foot away from him. He tried not to bring attention to himself as he squinted at her tattoo. Turned toward the other two men left of Daryl, he could see her left side clearly. He saw the flowers creeping up the back of her shoulder. She gave a small, stilted wave to the two. "I'm Bella."

Daryl tried not to snort when Glenn immediately jumped up, hand stuck out in front of him. "Hi," he said, voice tinny and high. He cleared his throat and repeated it again with a deeper tone. "Hi."

It was the expression on Bella's face that caused Daryl to smirk as he cleaned his knife. Eyes wide, her slight confusion at Glenn's abrupt manner was visible. But she eased it by having a small smile and joining him in his handshake, despite it coming off a little cautious and wary.

T-Dog swooped in. "Ignore this guy," he patted Glenn's shoulder before sticking his own hand out. "He gets a little nervous with women." Once Bella shook his hand, T-Dog held onto it and said, "especially the beautiful ones," with a wink before letting go.

Naturally, Glenn groaned, and Dale and Andrea shook their heads. Daryl also couldn't help letting out a snort and giving a small shake of his head before looking at Bella's reaction.

Looking rather unsure and baffled, Bella gave a short, airy laugh before shaking her head, sending a wink to him, and answering good-naturedly, "good thing I'm not one of those."

At that point, obviously uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Bella looked directly down at him, her bright eyes unnerving. "Do you need help with those?" She gestured toward the few squirrels left. "I don't mind, and you already did most of them."

He squinted up at her. The sun was moving up, causing a halo to form around her. The wild waves of her strands glowed gold. "Nah. I'm almost done. But you can do all of 'em next time."

She nodded, satisfied, before turning to the rest. "Well, I enjoyed meeting all of you," she said with a soft smile. "But I should probably go check on June." Bella gave another short, awkward wave before turning around and heading to her daughter.

Once she left, T-Dog looked around the campfire. "Did I come on too strong?"

Answering for everyone, Andrea rolled her eyes and walked away.

* * *

Deciding that the RV was already packed enough with people, Rick had Bella and June ride the red Chevy. Not that Bella minded. It was loud, but it offered some privacy for the two of them to talk away from everyone else. Probably why Rick allowed it in the first place – to give them space.

As June toggled with the iPod, Bella kept her eyes on the road in front. She trailed behind Carol's Cherokee which in turn followed Dale's RV and Daryl on his bike.

"So," Bella started. "What d'ya think?"

June looked at her thoughtfully. "I like them. They seem like normal people." She shrugged. "Plus, I've been bored sitting at the water tower all day."  
Bella cracked a smile. With mock offense, she scoffed before saying, "hey, I thought you liked hunting with me."  
June rolled her eyes. "Exactly. I like hunting _with_ you. You hunting without me sucked. But I admit, it was some pretty hardcore mother-daughter bonding time."

Bella nodded in agreement. To be honest, she kind of missed it. She wouldn't tell June that, even if June probably already knows. It was simple back there. Before Roy's shitty group came, Bella and June had it good – at least, compared to others. Sure, they didn't have electricity or hot water to wash in. But Bella felt grounded in a way she hadn't felt in a long time – even from before. To not have to worry about bills, June's college tuition, or anything else felt like a blessing. Once Bella found a place for June to stay – to be safe, it was easy. It was teaching June how to track, and which plants were safe to eat.

Another thing she enjoyed was the quiet. With just herself and her bow, Bella would walk the forest feeling freer than she's ever felt in a long time. Many wouldn't call that living: her being away from people and civilization for so long. But she lived – and thrived. To be thrusted into the company of this huge, normal group after not seeing any decent people in weeks, Bella felt quite out of touch with social graces. She's never really been the most approachable, even from before. Last night, Bella couldn't help but feel relieved when she realized most people were asleep. She wasn't quite ready yet to meet them.

But being with this group brought a new sense of security. Bella could go out and hunt without worrying whether she'd find June when she came back. It was always a nagging thought in her brain when she left her behind – whether that was the last time she'll ever see her daughter again.

"I'm worried," admitted Bella. She began tapping on the steering wheel. "From what I've seen, only a handful or so are capable of defending everyone. The women are just out doing laundry, and half of the guys don't seem to have much experience either."

June nodded. Bella forgets how young she is sometimes, considering that June ends up giving Bella advice for most of the time. "They're surely not experts. They haven't run into the kind of people you have." June let out a small laugh. "Mrs. Grimes was so shocked she found out I carried a gun. Even more shocked when she learned from Rick that I knew how to properly shoot it."

Bella snorted. "No wonder she kept staring at me."

They were quiet for a bit. June acted as DJ, switching the songs every now and then. She propped up her feet against the dashboard, ignoring Bella's pursed lips.

"You could train them, ya know?" June said suddenly.

"Hm?"

"Train them. Like you trained me," June stated. She jiggled her foot to the beat. "Andrea, Carol, Lori. They should all know how to at least handle a gun."

Bella lets out a tinkling laugh. "Can you imagine," she waved her hand around. "Us two come on in and start training the women? If them having the women do _laundry_ in a time like this has anything to say about it, the men would think we are starting an uprising."

June grinned. "It'll keep things interesting for sure. But ultimately it should be up to the women themselves. So, you should just ask if they want you to show 'em how. They'll have to learn eventually."

Bella mused on the idea. "You're right – as usual. But I'll take it slow and see what their moods are like."

Two songs later, June, stifling a yawn, asked, "when are you going to show them our duffle bags?"

Bella bit her lip, eyes focused ahead. She tapped her fingers, again. "Not sure. Soon, probably. They seem like okay people, but I'll wait a day or so. Remember what happened with that whole market fiasco from a week or so with that crazy redneck guy? I rather wait in case they decide that my stuff is more valuable than me."

June nodded. She then leaned her head against the door, eyes fluttering.

Bella noticed. "Hey," she jabbed June's arm. "You can't leave me alone to drive."  
When June didn't respond, Bella looked out toward one of the cars on the side of the road.

"Texas," Bella exclaimed before punching June on the shoulder, hard.

Immediately, June sat straight up. "You've got to be kidding me." She peered out the window, intently looking at the license plates of abandoned cars. "This is going to be a long ride."

The group stopped briefly for lunch before once again heading back onto the road. But at some point during this break, without Bella's knowledge, June had eagerly invited the curious pair of Carl and Sophia to join them in their truck. Not to Bella's surprise, Lori and Rick reluctantly agreed as long as Carol joined them too. Also, because Bella now carried all of the kids in her one car, they would ride in between the RV and Cherokee.

They claimed it was for the safety of the children – that way the truck couldn't somehow be cut off and left behind. But Bella knew it was a precaution in case they thought Bella decided to go rogue and kidnap the kids. More amused than anything, she agreed to become an over-glorified, apocalyptic soccer mom.

Switching with Carol as driver, Bella was actually having quite a fun time. The kids haven't seemed to have had the opportunity to enjoy any quality music, so she let them play around with it and take over. Bella enjoyed Carol's quiet, yet good-natured presence. The two spoke mostly about their own daughters in typical parental fashion. Both sides avoided speaking about anything that had to do with themselves and before, much to Bella's relief, and, she reasoned, probably to Carol's also. If one good thing can come out of the end of the world, it's that it can also be the end of the past.

Sophia shared her mother's soft-spoken quality, but with it came a timidness and shyness that was typical of an anxious child. Dangerous, Bella thought.

But Carl was all curiosity. He was mainly the one that actually would ask frank questions about their time in the water tower: How did they find it? What did they eat? How'd she learn to shoot with a bow? It went on and on.

It got to the point when Bella wondered whether Rick somehow put Carl up to this – to become his own mini spy. But she saw the innocence and openness that came in all children. And to be quite honest, it was refreshing to encounter a child's bluntness rather than an adult's roundabout ways. So, she enjoyed herself, and Bella and June would answer his questions playfully, sometimes creating outlandish lies and stories, much to the amusement of everyone in the car.

On and on it went – all the way into dinner.

"So why flowers? For your tattoo?"

Daryl was sitting against a fallen log, crouched over his bolts and cross bow. With his stained red rag, he was carefully cleaning and wiping down his bolts. Using only the low fire for light, he squinted to look for any spots he'd miss.

He had gone ahead of everyone else when the sun began to set. To the relief of them all, Daryl had found a picnic area off of the road. Placed on a hill with wooden fences, it had logs meant for seating placed around a central firepit. Because of the high vantage point and the general good mood of the group, Rick and Shane allowed them to continue to use the fire after dark despite usually discouraging it. As a direct consequence of this "treat," everyone sat around the fire to listen to the kid throw questions at Bella. So now they were all sitting in a circle on logs like it was fucking summer camp. Enjoying the chance to settle back all together, they all were curious to know more her, since most of them have only spoke to her briefly this morning in greeting. Seemingly amused by their obvious interest, she answered Carl's questions good-naturedly.

Bella, who sat a couple seats away between June and Carl, raised a challenging eyebrow. She had half of her hair pulled back from her face, allowing her waves to tumble down her back.

"What's wrong with my flowers?"

Carl wrinkled his nose and cocked his head. "It's just so... girly."

Bella looked at him with something of a scandalized expression. "You say that as if that's a bad thing. Can you imagine if I came out like you?" She teasingly shuddered. "I could've been a _boy._ "

Carl smartly changed topics. "Okay," he paused before smiling triumphantly up at her. "What were you before this?"

At this everyone looked up curiously, even Daryl. Looking at her, with her blazing green eyes and bow propped against her outstretched legs, he could not fathom the idea of her wearing some white-collared polo to head to her day job.

At that, Bella wrinkled her nose before biting her lip. She stared into the fire, head tilted. Her eyes seemed to be alive, moving and flickering. Looking in thought, she breathed deeply before letting out an anticlimactic "pass."

"Oh, c'mon," laughed Dale. "Now we gotta know." Glenn, T-Dog, and Andrea made noises of agreement. Lori smiled and reached up to brush back Carl's hair, who was grinning up at Bella.  
Bella tapped her fingers anxiously as she looked pleadingly at June for help. The little girl smirked and shrugged. "You're on your own."

"Oh, god," Bella groaned. She covered her face with her hands before moving them up to message her temples. Now, everyone was looking at her in amusement and anticipation. Pursing her lips and looking up towards the stars, she let out a deep sigh.

"Okay, how about this?" She looked at Carl with a solemn expression. "You get three shots – _only three_ – a day. If you guess correctly, I'll say so."

Carl scratched his head. Taking this quite seriously, he pensively looked into the fire.

"Army?"

"No."

A pause.

"A rancher?"

"Hell no."

Carl squinted at the fire. Daryl had stopped cleaning his bolts and was leaning back against the log. Listening with everyone else, he held a bolt between his fingers and skillfully used his thumb to spin and weave it through his fingers, allowing it to spin like a clock hand.

"A model?"

To Daryl's amusement, Bella looked positively aghast. Face red, she snorted and shook her head. "My, my. If these three guesses have anything to say, it's that you are _never_ going to be able to guess correctly."

Carl rolled his eyes before nodding determinedly. "I will next time."  
Once more, he shot a question at her.

"Are your eyes naturally that color?"

Lori lightly shoved Carl's shoulder. She scolded, "Carl!"

Bella looked a lot more comfortable by this question than the last. In fact, she didn't seem at all bothered by the boy's bluntness. She chuckled. "It's okay. Yes, they are. But I know that most people find them a bit – well – _disconcerting._ I remember when I moved late into the school year in the second grade. I was a bit of a moody child, so I would just stare at my teacher." She shook her head. "I scared the hell out of her and I knew it. Pale, with long black hair and freaky eyes, I probably looked like a ghost." She shrugged. "I had a weird sense of humor."

Daryl snorted.

June suddenly started cackling. "Oh my god. Do you remember Mrs. Spradley?"

Bella began laughing. Daryl realized this was the first time he heard her laugh. Airy and melodic, it brought a feeling of warmth. Like fucking windchimes, thought Daryl.

While beginning to stand with her plate in hand, Bella chuckled and shook her head. "That woman was, for a lack of a better word, bat-shit crazy." Then, with a serious expression, she dramatically said, "But at the same time, everything I aspired to be," before walking away to enter the RV.

Glenn took the bait. "Who's this Spradley?"

June grinned. "Around two years ago, Bella and I went to a Walmart because she needed more socks. So, there we were in the sock aisle, just perusing." She waved her arms around. "Then out of nowhere, this old women with big glasses and everything just popped up next to Bella and started yelling and screaming at her."

Laughing in between sentences, "She was yelling about Bella's 'witch eyes' and saying stuff about her being touched by the devil and needing to be cleansed. Everyone around us was just staring, while Bella just stood there with –" June began laughing hysterically. Gasping, while wiping away tears, she started again, "- with a pack of socks in her hands, looking like this." She pulled an imitation of Bella's deeply uncomfortable, confused face. This involved furrowed eyebrows, wide eyes, and pursed lips.

"Bella was so freaked out, but too uncomfortable and awkward to move away. So, she just kinda stood there taking it in, looking exactly like that, until the lady's grandkids took her away. But after that, we saw that old lady _everywhere._ Like, seriously. At restaurants, the theater, even in a _public restroom._ She'd just pop up out of nowhere and start yelling again. It got so bad, that the lady's daughter just gave up and invited us two for dinner to clear the air."

June chuckled, shaking her head. "This is what is so funny to me. We've been running away from that lady for two months, and it only took a fifteen-minute conversation with Bella for her to absolutely fall in love with her."

She shrugged. "Mrs. Spradley practically adopted the two of us after that. Every time she met up with her, she'd fawn over and ask-" Adopting a thick southern accent, she imitated, "'Bella, where's your husband? A gal like you ain't gonna be young forever. You gotta meet my son, Jacob. All the ladies love him.'"

Bella suddenly plopped down back to her seat. Entering the conversation, she smiled. "She gave me great advice. She told me to marry a rich old man, so I could inherit his fortunes and be set for life." She shook her head fondly. "Bless that woman."

It wasn't long after that when people began to settle in their tents. Rick had informed them that they made good time that day, even though it had become clear to the group that this trek was going to take time. They spent half of the time slowly meandering through piled up cars and jams.

When Daryl would wake up the next morning, he wouldn't remember his dream of vivid greens and emeralds. 

* * *

**AN:If you haven't had noticed, I am absolutely shit at keeping chapter lengths consistent oOps.**

 **Also, because Daryl's disposition is drastically different in season 1 compared to like season 8, it's a struggle for me to write him as a huffy and volatile character. He was much more talkative and open in season 1/2, so bare with me if he seems a little OOC than the Daryl your used to/prefer (aka sulky and surly Daryl aka my absolute favorite).**  
 **LAST THING: this and the next chapter are kind of "filler chapters" that show how the two newcomers are welcomed and perceived by the group. After these, we should FINALLY hit season two.**


	9. Shot

After shrugging on his token leather vest and slinging his crossbow over his back, Daryl clambered out of his tent.

The sun hasn't risen yet. The rose-pink light of dawn barely touched the sky. Instead, a cast of pale blue had blanketed their camp. The air was still, and the forest was quiet. He could faintly hear the rushing sound of a nearby stream. Looking down, he studied the ground. It was not too dry that he couldn't see his footprint or too wet that he sunk into the dirt. Moist, the dirt gave way to leave a solid print – ideal for hunting.

Glancing around, Daryl saw only Dale keeping guard in his usual lawn chair up on the roof of the RV. As he moved closer, he realized that someone was sitting on the edge of roof beside Dale. With a jolt, he recognized it was Bella, one leg bent to her chest, the other hanging over. Lightly swinging her leg back and forth, her heel would softly bounce against the side of the RV. They faced the direction of the soon-to-be rising sun and were speaking softly, looking relaxed and at peace.

When he came up underneath them, they both looked down at Daryl. Bella had half of her hair tied back again and was wearing a loose forest green tank tucked into her black baggy cargo pants. Her booted foot, which was leveled at his shoulder, stopped its swinging.

"I'm gonna go huntin' for a bit. We runnin' out of food already," he said in a hushed voice.

She cocked her head and then drew up her leg. "I'll go with you," she stated. There wasn't a question in her voice.

Daryl hesitated and leaned on his back leg to look at her, unknowingly coming off as defensive. He typically hunted solo. The only serious hunting partner he's ever had was Merle, so the idea of dragging along someone new, even if they were capable, was burdensome. It would take time and effort for the both of them to adapt and familiarize with the other's hunting style and habits. He had tried hunting with other people before all this, but almost every time has led him to being either empty-handed or irritated. Often both.

Bella picked up his reluctance. She held up the bow that was lying in her lap. "I had already planned on hunting this morning," she insisted.

Dale looked at the rising sun. "Best head out now. The others will want to leave in a couple of hours."

Daryl couldn't help but feel a flash of irritation. This trip would end up as a waste of his time. He narrowed his eyes as she climbed down the ladder. "We could head in separate ways and cover more ground that way."

Bella faced him, eyebrow raised. Before she could respond, Dale spoke down at them. "Son, Rick made it quite clear that he doesn't want any of us to wander off alone. You two should stick together. We don't know what's out there."  
Daryl scoffed. Bella's lips quirked up at one corner. "Don't worry," she lightly teased. "I'll try to keep up."

* * *

To his relief, from the moment they left camp, she didn't speak. In fact, he could hardly tell she was there, trailing behind him so quietly that every now and then he'd look to make sure Bella didn't somehow get silently captured by walkers. He'd see her off to the side a bit, eyes scanning the ground around them. She'd look up and raise an eyebrow, as if daring him to break the silence. Instead, he'd turn right back around and continue without a word.

At least she wasn't talkative. It should be common sense that when hunting, there should be little talking. It's why he and Merle often communicated only with whistles during these trips. But he had had his fair share of hunting companions that would attempt to start up conversations about trivial and irrelevant things.

So, they walked in mutual silence. Calmed down, Daryl focused on the hunt, even though he still resolutely believed he didn't need to have her here in the first place. After a while, the silence became almost comfortable. At some point, Bella branched away so that she moved beside him a couple feet away

It was only occasionally broken by the soft thumps and thuds signaling a hit of a target, which in this case were typically squirrels with the occasional walker. He'd string them up on a line and she'd hang them off of her leather game carrier, which was clipped to her belt loop above her back pocket.

Without speaking, they began to develop a way of communicating. It was only to whistle to attract the other's attention – typically to indicate a change of direction, which was usually accepted without complaint by the other.

An hour in, they each had about a handful of squirrels. At this rate, Daryl begrudgingly admitted, they'd have more than enough for the group in a few hours.  
A soft whistle broke his focus, causing him to look up from the ground to see Bella crouching off to the side. She was studying the ground as he walked over. Looking over her shoulder, he saw the telltale track of a slim, cloven hoof that could only belong to a deer. Daryl kneeled down next to her. The imprint had a distinct, clear look that indicated it could be recent, maybe within the day. But he knew the weather had been calm the past couple of days, so it could be older than it appeared.

As if reading his thoughts, Bella pointed a gloved finger at a bent blade of grass that had been pressed down by the deer's hoof. "The bend hasn't changed colors yet, so it's freshly bruised," she spoke very softly. Still, it was a bit startling to hear her speak, breaking the mutual silence.

Daryl nodded. "Couldn't have been more than a few hours."

They exchanged looks and after a quiet agreement, they silently began to follow the tracks.

* * *

It only took them an hour to track the deer down. They spent it in complete silence. Like ghosts, they barely left a mark on the earth. The two ignored all squirrels or rodents. Knowing that the sound of the arrow could spook the deer away, they refrained from shooting at all. Despite the visible lack of action, the atmosphere was tense and suspenseful. Although fraught with anticipation, they didn't let it deter them from their hunt. Daryl hardly thought of anything else besides the tracks beneath him.

Occasionally, either Bella or Daryl would crouch to gather a handful of dry leaves from the floor. They would crumble it before letting the wind blow them away. To their relief, the wind was blowing toward the opposite direction the deer was heading in.

When they first saw it, they froze. The sunbeams were shining through the tall trunks of the trees, causing slanted shadows to stretch across the ground. There was hardly any noise; it was as if the world itself stopped breathing. Everything except the deer, which stood oblivious to the two hunters. Neck bent to the ground, it munched on the grass peacefully.

Standing perpendicular from the pair with its side facing them, it invited them to take the perfect broadside shot.

Bella and Daryl stood about twelve yards away. They crept up closer than Daryl was used to, but the pair were so quiet that they remained unnoticed. Bella looked at Daryl, and he realized she was waiting for him to aim. This was _his_ hunt that she joined. However, making eye-contact with her, he nodded towards the deer, inviting her to take the shot.

Although surprised, Bella knew time was of the essence, and so she wasted no time drawing back her arrow. It was then in those few seconds, before Bella let her arrow fly, that Daryl _looked_ at her, as if just realizing she was there. With her weight on her right knee, Bella was kneeling on the ground. Her gloved drawing hand rested against her lower jaw, allowing her bow string to lightly kiss the corner of her mouth. Her hair tumbled down her back, away from the bow. Her tensed left arm was extended, emphasizing her lean muscles. Her thin black tattoos in the inside of her bicep were on full display. Accentuated by her forest green tank, her eyes gleamed. The sun had risen behind her, casting a soft glow around her powerful and steady stance.

It was then, in the back of Daryl's mind, he first realized she was beautiful.

Bella's arrow flew and hit its mark: the arrow went clean through the deer's shoulder. To the pair's relief, the animal immediately kicked its back legs up before running forward hard. It ran beyond the trees, but Bella and Daryl were in no hurry following after it. Bella stood and walked over to her arrow, which had embedded itself in a tree behind the deer. Smiling, she looked at the frothy, bright crimson blood that coated her arrow. The deer's reaction and the appearance of the blood indicated she had successfully shot its heart.

Bella waved the arrow triumphantly at Daryl. With a small appraising smile, he nodded, satisfied. Settling back against a tree, he said, "not bad. I didn't think this mornin' we'd be luggin' back a buck."

Bella snorted. She walked back to the small clearing and sat at the base of the tree across from him. In good spirits, she responded, "I could tell you didn't think we'd be bringing back much from your less-than enthusiastic reaction."

They both knew that with a shot heart, the deer would only make it maybe sixty or so yards before falling down – one hundred fifty at the max. But they had to wait for around thirty minutes to ensure the animal died, or else the deer could get spooked by their presence and start running off again.

He shrugged. "I know you're a good shot. Ain't the same as bein' a good huntin' partner."

Bella pulled out a green rag from her back pocket and began wiping down her arrow. "Fair enough."

He took advantage of the quiet and distance from everyone back at camp and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. Daryl lit it and drew in a smoke. It was an old habit to smoke after shooting down a buck. Something of a tradition he shared with Merle. It wasn't till a couple minutes later, when he was almost done with the stick, that Daryl observed that Bella seemed oddly tense and anxious. Her daughter gave him disapproving looks when he smoked in front of her, but Bella was avoiding looking at him altogether. Her finger persistently tapped against her thigh.

Discomfited, Daryl flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his foot. Discreetly observing her, Daryl noticed her shoulders relaxing almost immediately.

"C'mon," Daryl grunted after a while. "The buck should be down already."

Immediately, Bella sprung up and headed toward the direction the deer ran in. After a few yards, they found the first sign of spilt blood. Silently, they pursued their prey. They didn't have to move too far – maybe only fifty-five yards – until the two reached the fallen animal. Satisfied the buck was still and dead, Daryl hoisted the buck around his shoulders. Young, it wasn't too large for him to carry.

At some point on the way back, Daryl broke the silence. "How'd you learn to shoot?"

Looking straight ahead, Bella shrugged. "I first learned when I was around eleven, but that was just with a regular gun. I lived with this veteran – a woman – who believed everyone should know how to defend themselves. She taught me that and some self-defense moves. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me interested in learning how to protect and handle myself."

She shot a walker. Walking over, she yanked out her arrow, sending brains and flesh flying. "One reason I loved being with June's grandparents were that they were _really_ into that kind of stuff. Joshua hunted for as long as his body would allow. He was the one who taught me archery in the first place."

She rolled her eyes, but it was followed with a fond smile. "He constantly talked about his competing days and would boast the same stories over and over again. I was young and impressionable; it was enough to get me hooked. I think he was so eager to teach me because June's mother never showed an interest in it. He taught me everything I know."

Daryl nodded. "Must've been a good shot." It was the closest thing to a compliment he was capable of giving.

Chuckling, she made a sound of agreement. After a couple yards, she turned it on him. "And you?"

Squinting up at the sun to check its placement, he answered noncommittally. "Man's gotta eat. Merle and I would go huntin' for food way before the world went to shit."

"Who's Merle?"

He looked down at her, briefly taken aback. "Shit. Forgot you weren't there. He's my brother. Rubbed against this group the wrong way during a run and got himself handcuffed by Officer Friendly. By the time we came back for him, dumb bastard was gone."  
Eyes wide, she looked up at him. "Like _gone_?"

Irritated, he picked up on what she was implying. "He ain't dead. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle."

She frowned. "So he just," she paused shaking her head, " _left_? Have you guys been looking?"

Daryl huffed and forcefully kicked away a branch that they had come across, not bothering to hide his aggravation. "No one out there is cryin' over him - that's for sure. Shit happened, and everyone decided to up and head for Fort Benning."

"Oh." A long silence followed after that. It wasn't until they reached the camp that she spoke again.

"I'm sorry about your brother." Without looking at him, Bella then hopped over the string of metal before heading to her waiting daughter.

* * *

 **AN: I can go on forever about what I think about Daryl's way of thinking and his approach to people. The way I see it, he doesn't even consider having a romantic relationship or viewing anyone in a way that isn't platonic, until it just creeps up on him much later. This isn't a story about Daryl just looking at some beautiful woman and starts crushing on her in like two days. I don't think just because he recognizes someone is attractive, he'd immediately consider viewing them romantically or at all differently from anybody else. To him, looks just isn't important and he doesn't even think about/want a relationship.**

 **In summary, this story is a SLOWWW build on a relationship that will start off as viewing each other with respect (which is where they are now) to friendship to a really close bond and THEN romance. I already figured out their timeline, and it'll spread across all eight seasons.**


	10. What Lies Ahead

Bella could tell that the group was beginning to feel weighed down by their travels. What would've been only a few hours' drive before the turn, the trek to Fort Benning was riddled with jams and herds that made it very arduous for them to cover significant ground. It often forced them to either backtrack or loop around, thus costing a lot of time and gas. It's been five days since her hunt with Daryl, making it roughly a week since Bella and June decided to leave the water tower behind.

It was easy enough for them to be accepted by the group. The pair offered their hunting and fighting skills, while the group provided protection and stability. In the past couple of days, Bella had come to appreciate Carol's easy conversations, Glenn's jokes and quick-thinking, and Dale's humble advice (even though she never asks for them). She began teaching Andrea how to clean and assemble her gun, much to the latter's appreciation. Bella even asked Carol if she and her daughter would like to learn, but they didn't accept her offer. Rick would often even include her in initial plannings and discussions that he normally would only speak to Shane and Dale first about.

Her biggest fans seemed to be the kids. Claiming it was only because she played good music, Carl and Sophia would often ask to join Bella in her car. They became her mini shadows, and, to be honest, it was easier to talk to them than the adults. With the kids, she didn't have to worry about how her words or actions were being perceived. Kids just don't give a shit about those things, and it was almost cathartic.

Bella noticed that while Carl and Sophia had become her mini shadows, June tended to gravitate toward the sporadically brash and impulsive Daryl. June would often try to initiate conversations with him, even if it was clear he was not in the mood to do so. She managed to somehow convince him to help her gain experience with gutting and prepping fresh kills. When Bella asked June why she didn't just ask her own _mother_ instead, June simply grinned and said, "I like talking to him. He's just funny."

Bella had no idea what that meant. Her daily interactions with Daryl typically consisted of them two hunting for the group. Silently. Not that she minded. When in the process of hunting, they communicated easily through whistles and expressions. There wasn't much room for conversation, so it acted as a refuge for her to get away from the constant socialization and chatter that came with joining a group. It grounded her. It was only after the hunt, when they would walk back to camp, that they would have the chance to talk. But they both seemed to recognize that making conversation was just something they were both naturally poor at. While they did often speak of that day's hunt or other similar topics, most of the time they spent together was filled with a familiar, comfortable silence.

That day, Bella had allowed June to ride with Rick, Lori, Carl, and Sophia in the Cherokee. Carol, who had strangely become the person Bella talked to the most, and Glenn rode with her in the truck. Glenn and she had actually become fast friends. Similar in age, they spoke easily and often made references from before the turn. Her humor was often crasser and more morbid than the other two could handle, much to Bella's delight. It was a strange trio in her car that day, but it made things even more entertaining.

They had only been on the road for about two hours when the Cherokee and others in front began to slow down. Recognizing the situation, the three grimly scanned the still and lifeless mass of cars they had entered. It was always unsettling for the group to have to go through these car jams. Their hauntingly empty appearances bring back reminders of the current state of the world they live in. Passing upturned and crashed cars, Bella was struck by how they looked like snapshots of people's lives, similar to photos taken at crime scenes.

She briefly saw Daryl's motorcycle circling around the RV before heading back up to the lead. Then, to Bella's surprise, Rick's car suddenly slowed to a stop.

"What's going on," Carol futilely asked. The concern and worry in her voice sounded so different from the engaged and entertained woman that was there not ten minutes ago.

Seeing Rick opening his door, Bella uneasily turned the car off before kicking her own door open. Before exiting, she reached over to grab her quiver and bow before swinging them both around her back. Soon, everyone had left their vehicles. Placing a hand on June's shoulder, the two made their way up to the front of the RV where everyone was beginning to congregate.

"This darn radiator hose." Dale shook his head at the steaming head of the RV. "What did I say?"

Shane climbed out of RV. "What's happening, Dale?"

"We need more than duct tape to get this old thing going. I've been saying it over and over again. And now look where we are. We are stick with no way of fixing –" Dale's voice trailed off as everyone looked at Daryl, who was ignoring their stares while rummaging through the trunk of one of many vehicles on the road.

"Okay," said Dale. "That was dumb."

"There's plenty of stuff we can find here – if not a radiator hose," spoke Daryl. He moved around the car to a truck nearby.

T-Dog began moving forward. "We can get more fuel for our cars by siphoning them from these."  
Andrea nodded. "Food. Water. Everything we need we can find here."

Lori looked at everyone. In a quiet voice, she said, "this is a graveyard." She shifted. "This just doesn't feel right."

Everyone, including Daryl, looked at her uneasily. But it wasn't long before people cautiously moved forward to scavenge.

Bella crouched so that she was eye-level with June. "I'm going to head up there and help look around. You stay here close to our cars with the others. Don't take chances, okay?" June nodded.

"Do you have your knife?" June held a thumbs up.

Satisfied, Bella, along with the others, meandered their way through the forgotten cars. Peering through car windows, she often found the dry and almost skeletal remains of the previous owners. Squashing her guilt and unease, she dug out a black sling bag to help carry anything useful she could find.

To her relief, there wasn't any indication of any recent looting. Bella and the others would easily find canned and packaged foods for the group. This could mean that Daryl and she wouldn't need to go out hunting – at least for the next few days.

Bella made quick work of the cars and soon found her way up ahead with T-Dog and Daryl. Opening the door to a rusty blue Jetta, she was unexpectedly lunged at by a very not dead woman. Most of the bodies have been dead-dead, so Bella was quite put-off at being attacked by this one. Pushing it back into the driver's seat with her forearm, she easily dispatched it by using her hunting knife she had pulled out from her belt. Daryl, who stood at the next car over, raised an eyebrow at her. To his amusement, she grimaced back.

In the quietude and peace of the forest, they unknowingly began to pick up on each other's body language and habits. They didn't need to say a lot for the other to understand. Daryl thought it was almost uncanny on how effortless it was for him to be able to interpret her subtle gestures and signals, even when outside of a hunt. He figured it was because of all the hours they'd spend together in the mornings.

Daryl shut the trunk of his car and began to move past Bella to find another one to scavenge. But his neck prickled, and he realized something was off. It was still. Too quiet. The sounds of the rest of their group talking, moving things around, and opening doors were gone.

Then came the smell. A soft breeze hit him. He immediately tensed and without thought let out two short, low whistles. In a heartbeat, Bella crouched and had strung her arrow into her bow. Not needing to look back at him, she looked back towards the directions of their cars and began to see the stiff and clumsy movements associated with walkers.

She began backing up and, keeping low behind cars, moved toward the other side of the road. Unsure of where she was heading, he stayed close behind her while keeping a watchful eye on the herd.

It was when she suddenly banked right and let an arrow fly that he saw T-Dog clutching his bleeding arm, unharmed from the closing-in lone walker Bella had just shot. Bella quickly caught the walker before it could fall and gently and soundlessly placed it on the road.

The herd almost upon them, Daryl gave a short whistle – more air than sound. He nodded his head toward the car next to them, and, without hesitation, Bella rolled underneath the car. Daryl quickly grabbed the dead walker and threw it on top of a very bloody and confused T-Dog before throwing himself under the car next to Bella. As soon as he slid in, the telltale sounds of snarls and moans reached their ears. Not long after, their car was surrounded by walkers slowly making their way down.

The two exchanged anxious looks. Tense, Daryl controlled his breathing as if he was on a hunt. Inwardly shaking his head, he thought to himself that this basically was a hunt. He and Bella communicated with each other using calls to signal walkers were near and to give an order that was meant to be followed without question. They both followed each other's lead instantly. But this was the first time they've had to use it outside of hunting. This was life and death, and it was disconcerting for Daryl to realize that in this moment they both trusted each other with their lives without thought or hesitation. They immediately fell back into the routine that they're both used to around each other.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Could've been five minutes or thirty for all he knew. At some point, the numbers began to dwindle until eventually there were only stragglers left behind.

Daryl sensed Bella relaxing and barely heard her soft exhale. Still, the two and T-Dog didn't risk moving so soon after the herd had just past.

Suddenly, a distant shriek shattered the new silence. Young and high pitched – it unmistakably belonged to a little girl. The change on Bella's demeanor was immediate. Like a deer shot in the heart, she jerked violently. Daryl saw the jolt and was intuitively ready for the dash he knew would follow. Before she could jump out, he threw his arm around her neck, allowing him to cover her mouth was his hand. He used his leg to press her legs down, immobilizing her, and thus preventing her from leaving their hiding place. She struggled against him before freezing when a straggler walker slowly made its way by the car.

Once it passed, Daryl felt her body sag underneath him. Relieved, he had barely loosened his grip when Bella took the opportunity to jerk her elbow into his side – _hard_. He let out a grunt, and she slipped away before he could even recover.

Swearing, he rolled out from underneath. He shot down two walkers who were stumbling after Bella's retreating form. Fortunately, the rest of the herd seemed to have been far enough to not hear the shriek. Lugging up T-Dog with him, the two swiftly ran down the cars toward the others and Bella.

By the time he caught up, everyone in the group was congregated along the fenced side of the road next to the forest. Daryl scanned the solemn faces and realized that Rick, Sophia, and June were missing. Clearly, Bella had noticed to.

Face white as a sheet, she was firmly grasping Carol, who was sobbing despondently. "Carol," her voice was high but firm. "What happened?"

When Carol didn't respond, Bella shook her shoulders, a tinge of desperation coming out of her voice. "Carol!"

Lori, who seemed just as shell-shocked, stepped up. "June and Sophia were under a car when the herd came through. Towards the end, they ended up getting chased away by four walkers." Bella stared intently at her, unblinking. Eyes blazing, she scarcely seemed to be breathing.

Lori took in a trembling breath. "They had to run into the forest. Rick immediately chased after them just now."

Bella inhaled sharply. A pause. Then suddenly, she whirled on her heels and started stalking resolutely toward the forest.

"Hey, hey," Shane blocked her with his arm. Without a word, she shoved him, hard. Seeing her about to just run headlong into the forest, Daryl also intervened by placing himself in her way.

"Grime's got this handled. We don't need anybody else runnin' blindly into the forest."

"Get out of my fucking way," she hissed. She made to move around him, but Daryl grabbed her shoulder. Like a wounded animal, she lashed out so violently that he stumbled back. "Don't _ever_ fucking touch me."

Ignoring the protests of everyone else, Bella scanned the grass approaching the forest. She spotted the imprints of recent steps, and with a fierce determination, she began to track down her daughter.

Bella was distinctly aware that a couple of the others were following her. Not that they would be much fucking help. As far as she knew, June and she had only been with them for a _week_ before June goes disappearing. This never happened at the water tower when it was just the two of them.

The ground she followed was quite disturbed. Several tracks were crisscrossing and stumbling right on top of each other. There were signs of two humans taking long, running strides. But most their tracks were disrupted by the dragging shuffle of walkers.

Bella herself moved fast, almost recklessly. Practically racing, she only slowed down occasionally to confirm she was heading in the right direction before sprinting off again. She barely slowed down to shoot down a walker, not even bothering to retrieve her arrow.

Soon, she reached the edge of a steep incline that framed a creek. Stopping, Bella desperately looked around the upturned leaves and twigs. The shuffling had taken a sharp left, but she saw a rock that led to the incline had mud on it. It seemed to have been from the bottom of a shoe. Knowing that the rushing water would tell her nothing, she made way to head toward the walkers. But as her eyes gave a final sweep of the creek below, she saw a familiar face farther down the stream.

"Rick." Voice sharp as a knife, Bella skillfully and quickly made her way down. She jumped into the water and waded toward a blood-stained Rick. She noticed Rick immediately looked towards a very small cave that was built into the incline. Seeing his face fall, she forcefully went up to him.

"Where are they?" At that point, the rest had finally caught up to Bella. Daryl made his descent down while Shane and Glenn stayed up above, eyes searching.

Unsettled, Rick pointed at the cave. "I caught up to the girls, but I couldn't take out four walkers without leaving them defenseless. I hid them down here and told them to stay put, but if I didn't make it back to head back to the highway."

He rubbed his jaw. "I told them to head there," he pointed towards the highway. "And to keep the sun on their left shoulders."  
Bella's chest felt tight and compressed. She thought she could scarcely breathe as she stared at Rick with slight panic in her eyes. As afraid as she was, Bella took in sharp breathes, forcing herself to calm down. She knew she couldn't break – not now, when time is young and valuable.

Shane from above spoke out. "You sure they understood what you meant? Two scared little girls – you gotta wonder if any of it stuck."

Bella resisted the urge to chuck a rock at his head. The indignation she felt on behalf of her daughter was enough to clear her head. "They're not toddlers. June isn't incapable of understanding basic commands," she said flatly.

Daryl, meanwhile, was scoping the incline for any signs of where the kids went. "Over here," he called out. He pointed at a path. "There's fresh tracks. Oi –" he waved away Glenn. "Get out of the way. You're messin' 'em up."  
Immediately, Bella and Rick sloshed their way over to Daryl. Squashing her still simmering resentment, she accepted Shane's hand to hoist her back up.

Following close behind Daryl, Bella resisted the childish urge to shove him to the side and pursue the girls herself. However, she was impatient and restless, which is a bad combination when tracking. So, Bella squashed down her bitterness and irritation and followed the much calmer and more level-headed Daryl – something she never thought she'd see.

Ignoring Bella, who was practically breathing down his neck, Daryl suddenly stopped. Looking around him, she saw the trail suddenly veer to the left, away from the highway. Bella moved past him and began to intently scour the ground for other tracks.

Daryl crouched and squinted at the ground. "Girls were doin' just fine up to here. Could've kept goin' to reach the highway, but they changed directions."

Glenn's concern and puzzlement showed. "How come? Walkers?"

Shane moved next to Daryl and shrugged. "Could've been anything that came and spooked them away."

"There's some disturbance along here," Bella spoke. With a single-minded focus that would make June proud, she gestured toward the leaf-littered ground a couple feet away. "The wind makes it hard to tell but could be a few walkers."

Rick stood up, looking toward the direction of the girls. "You two," he said pointing at Glenn and Shane, "head back to the road. Calm the others down and let them know we are on this. Us three–" He turned toward the collected Daryl and the also collected, yet on-edge, Bella. "- will continue looking."

Good. Less assholes to deal with.

Bella stalked toward the trail without looking back to see if the rest were following. She couldn't bear looking at the guilt-ridden Rick and Daryl, who tried restraining her in the first place, without wanting to immaturely – yet _justifiably_ – shoot them with her arrows. Perhaps aware of her sour mood, they didn't speak or comment on her aggravated state.

At least, up until they came across a walker. After Rick had found flesh in its teeth, she pulled out her hunting knife from her belt and prepared to cut into this disgusting and positively wretched creature. However, Daryl's hand rudely intercepted – _again_ – before she could.

"In the state you're in, it's best that I should do it."

Indignant, she contemplated if he would still say such a thing if she decided to turn her knife on _him._ Ignoring her glowering look, Daryl forcefully stabbed his own knife into the walker. Unlike Rick, Bella unflinchingly watched him with an unsettling focus. Grimacing, Daryl stuck in his hands and began to dig through the walker's organs.

Finally, he tossed something out. "Here's the gut bag."  
Bella refused to even entertain the thought that parts of the two girls could possibly be in there. If any inkling of that trickled in, she would break. Still, something in her stopped her from reaching forward. So, with a detached, yet pale, expression, she watched as Rick sliced it open. And she continued to look as he and Daryl dug through it.

Beginning to feel doubt creeping in, she squashed down her nausea and looked at the flesh and bloody remnants of its last meal. Rick flicked some of the pulpy vestiges off of his knife.

Daryl finally lifted something solid out of the organ. Dangling on the tip of his knife was the skull of woodchuck. "Gross bastard ate himself a woodchuck for lunch"  
Bella exhaled, releasing the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"At least we know," Rick said solemnly. Daryl echoed this in agreement. Bella tried not to curse them out.

From this, they knew nothing. It didn't tell them where June and Sophia were or where to look next. This was a waste of time more than anything.

Yet as the sun started to sink lower and lower, the three could only hopelessly try to cover good ground. The trail had gone cold, and thus they wandered for most of the time, killing and gutting up any walker they come by.

When they made it back to the highway, Bella just felt exhausted. Emotionally and physically worn, her anger and frustration had ebbed away until it was just anguish.

As the rest of the group rushed up to them with Carol in the lead demanding answers, Bella, suddenly feeling very winded, sat on the guardrail with her head in her hands. Attempting to block out Carol's audible despair and the group's badgering, she messaged her temples, avoiding looking up.

She was distinctly aware of Carol sitting next to her. Recognizing her pain, Bella simply placed a consoling hand on Carol's shoulder. Carol seemed to have deflated, the situation sinking in.

"How could you," Carol spat at Rick, the scorn clear in her voice. "How could you just leave my baby girl out there?"

She might as well had physically stabbed Rick in the chest. Rick stepped back as if reeling from an imaginary blow before kneeling in front both of the mothers. Shoulders heavy, he first looked at Carol and then Bella. "There were four walkers on us. I couldn't take them on my own while protecting the two girls. I had to go ahead to take the walkers out."

Looking at his distressed and anguished eyes, the same kind of look Bella knew was on hers and Carol's, Bella felt no anger or resentment. True, for most, if not all, of the time spent tracking in the forest, Bella did occasionally contemplate colorful ways to make to punish them. But somewhere along the way, she realized she felt angrier at herself than anybody else. _She_ went ahead to leave her girl behind. _She_ was the one who allowed this to happen.

She failed as a mother to be there to protect her child.

So, Bella looked at him. Instead of feeling loathing, she felt pity. And she was so, so tired.

"It sounded like Rick did everything he could," Bella murmured softly, speaking for the first time about this whole shitty situation to anybody. She could tell that Rick and Daryl especially did not anticipate this admission. After all, she was seething and lashing out for the whole time in the forest. But she could see how grateful Rick was by her consolation.

She continued to speak. "Because the two are together, they definitely are still out there. June and I had spent six weeks living in the forest, so she knows how to get food and take out walkers. It's a familiar environment for her." Bella chose not to mention that she had never left June alone in the forest to fend for herself, or that June has only taken out walkers with a gun. Since June had ridden in the Cherokee that day, she had left it behind, leaving her out there with only a knife. If June encountered a walker, she'd have to somehow knock it down or gain enough altitude to reach its head.

This, Bella could see, seemed to have reassured even the whole group. Rick swooped in, nodding with a newly found surety in an attempt to comfort the still reeling Carol.

"Bella and Daryl will be leading the search. If anyone can find them, it's them two."  
Now addressing the whole group, he continued. "We will begin as soon as the light comes in the morning. We _will_ find them."

* * *

Rick rolled out an array of knives and machetes on top of a car's hood. "Everyone takes one. We need to be prepared for anything that's out there."

Andrea looked up at Rick in disbelief. "These aren't the weapons we need to take on any walkers."  
Shane butted in. "We use a gun in there, we could potentially attract a herd or any walkers within a five-mile radius. We don't need all of y'all going trigger-happy when a tree rustles."

Hand on her hip, the blonde challenged, "It's not a tree I'm worried about."  
"Only Daryl, Rick, Bella, and I will carry. That's final, so you need to get over it."  
Earlier, when they decided this, the boys originally didn't even think to mention Bella for the list. True, Bella rarely carries a gun, but it's too soon for them to know that. But she recognized in that moment, to carry a gun is to have standing in the group. It means that they will be seen as capable for making choices and being able to protect themselves. So, in a tone that made no room for argument, she flatly said, "So will I." Not wanting to challenge the steel-eyed mother, no one spoke against it.

Daryl, recognizing that this conversation was absolutely pointless, took his chance. "The idea is we gonna go up the creek for about five miles. It's the only landmark these girls got, so it's the best place to search."

Rick, who still seemed to be weighed down by his guilty-conscience, spoke in a low tone. "Stay safe and stay quiet. Don't stray too far from the group but spread out from each other, so you're always within sight."

Everyone began to pack and prepare for what was most likely going to be a very long day. Bella, who only carried her weapons, settled back on top of the hood of another car. Hopping on, she wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to squash her impatience. With little emotion, Bella watched everyone seemingly stroll their way around.

To her incredulity, it wasn't long before another argument broke out.

" – Dale, you need to stop. Do you think I'm just going to put the gun up to my head and shoot myself as soon as I can?" Bella, slightly taken-aback, cocked her head as she took in the unconcealed dispute in front of her. Everyone else looked obviously uncomfortable by the blatant quarrel taking place between Dale and Andrea.

"Look, I know you're mad. But if I haven't done what I did, you'd be dead right now." Dale, in his fisher hat and printed shirt, looked at her imploringly.

Andrea exploded at that. "What's it to you? You barely know me. I had a choice to make, and I chose."

"You chose _suicide._ I know that after Amy's death –"

Andrea let out an exhale. Pausing, she looked right back at him stone-faced. "Stop it right there. This is between us. If I choose I have nothing left to live for, that is on me. I didn't want your blood on my hands, and so you forced it on me. You took away my choice." While everyone else was listening with a rather inappropriate attentiveness, Bella uncomfortably stared at her clasped hands, lips pursed.

To Bella's exasperation, Andrea kept going. "I'm not your little girl." Yikes. "I'm not your wife." Ick. "That is it. That is all there is to say." Thank god.

Her and Dale had talked about this the morning Daryl and she shot the deer. While sympathetic to his confession and worry, Bella was rather convinced that she was to stay out of it. When Daryl came up saying he was about to go hunting, she invited herself as a way to escape. It wasn't that she didn't care; she just didn't know the right words to say. She obviously didn't tell June about their problem, and for it to be brought up _now_ of all times made Bella want to bang her head against the car.

Without a word, everyone began to make their way to the forest, leaving behind T-Dog and Dale, both injured in their own ways.

* * *

Bella walked off to the side from everyone else, barely speaking a word. Tense and antsy, she looked for signs of the two girls with a narrow-minded intensity that caused the rest of the group to give her the space she obviously wanted.

At some point, Carl made his way up to her, doing something everyone else was too awkward to do. When he pulled up at her side, Bella couldn't help letting her rigid disposition soften. She didn't say anything but gave him a weak half-smile. He returned a smile in kind, and for a bit they walked together in silence. In that moment, it was the most comforted she's felt from anybody.

When he first spoke, he looked at her with an optimism and hope that she hadn't seen much of from the rest of them. "You know, we'll find them, right? June's tough like you, and she told me you taught her how to handle herself."

She let out a soft sigh, shoulders deflating. "I don't doubt her strength and capability. But it's a tough world we live in, where even the strongest don't always survive." Bella recognized that she may be depressing the boy, but at that moment she pettily wanted everyone to just understand her worry.

But Carl still had his light and was unruffled by her words. "Don't think like that. I think June is one of the most skilled in this group. And she's only thirteen!"

Bella smiled at that. It was small, but it was genuine. "Thanks, Carl. That means a lot to me."

They continued their way along with the rest of the group. Now and then, she noticed the others glancing back, checking on the two. At that moment, it was Daryl who looked back. She saw the brief surprise on seeing her more relaxed than she has been since the girls' absence. But once he realized Bella was looking back, he immediately turned around without any tact.

It seemed that Carl had took it upon himself to bring Bella out of her self-imposed solitude. He took another failed shot at guessing her job from before (teacher, firefighter, boss-lady). He'd coerce her into telling stories or answering questions.

"Do you think you can teach me to how to defend myself like you and June?"

She raised an eyebrow at this. "Why don't you ask your dad? Or Shane?"

At this, Carl quieted. Head down, he shrugged in what he probably thought was a casual way, but instead came out rather sad. She thought about how the group has been running around the couple of days with Rick at the head of it. Especially since yesterday, Rick has seemed to be preoccupied by the loss of the girls – understandably so, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy.

Bella knew what it was like to be put to the side, forgotten.

She nudged him with her elbow. "Hey. As long as your parents agree to it, I would love to teach you."

A smile crept on his face. Before he could respond, Bella suddenly stopped. Turning to the side, she intently stalked her way without looking away from what caught her attention. She was vaguely aware of the others, once realizing she had seen something, beginning to follow at close distance. Soon, Daryl was at her side, just like when they had caught the trail of the deer.

Covered by the foliage of the tall stalks of short shrubs and trees, a green tent was camped out a couple yards away. She didn't see anyone around it, but she still had her bow at the ready.

When they were only a few feet away, Daryl and she bent down, studying the clearing. There didn't seem to be any fresh prints, but it was clear by the camping gear and equipment littered around it that it had been in use. The front flap of the opening was partly unzipped. Everything was still.

Glenn, from behind her, whispered, "They could be in there." Bella quietly slipped out her knife from her arm guard, holding it upright and ready.  
Seeing Bella preparing herself to move in, Daryl spoke cautiously, more to Bella than Glenn. "There could be anything in there."

Not bothering to respond to the obvious warning, Bella crept her way forward, low to the ground. She felt Daryl's presence close behind, backing her up. Once right out the tent, she tried to peer inside, but saw little. She saw Daryl do the same from the other side. Looking at her, he shook his head, shrugging.

Looking back at the rest of the group with Carol at the front, she saw that they were watching, frozen.

Her voice still sounding loud even to her, Bella spoke in a calming and soothing tone. This did not match her tense muscles and upraised knife. "June? Sophia?"

Silence.

Bella lightly grabbed the zipper at the corner and began to peel it back. When Daryl began to lift the flap, Bella, who stood closest to the opening, couldn't stifle back her gag. So much for stealth. But the smell of rancid and putrid _rot_ had hit her hard. Pressing her nose into the inside of her elbow, she forced herself to move in, knife at the ready.

To her relief, there weren't two little girls inside the rank tent. Seeing a body facing away on a chair, she crept to it, wary that it'll suddenly decide to make her day even worse. Breathing shallowly out through her mouth, she inched her way around.

On the chair, with a rather obnoxious button saying "No excuse for domestic violence" pinned to its chest, was a maggot infested corpse. She lightly reached over to grab the gun from its decayed hand, noting its missing jaw and blood-splattered tent.

"Bella?" It was Carol, voice wavering.

Bella, feeling everything in between relief and disappointment, crept back toward the opening, which was still held open by Daryl. Taking in a deep breath of the clean, crisp air, she shook her head. "Wasn't them. Jackass shot himself in the head."

Bella, feeling her adrenaline fading away, took deep breathes to calm her heart down. This proved to be pointless since right at that point, the distant sound of bells rung through the forest. In a heartbeat, everyone briefly froze before sprinting toward the source.

Heart pounding, Bella could hardly think as the trees blurred all around her. Stray branches and leaves whipped across her face, but she hardly felt the sting as small, thin scratches bloomed on her cheeks. Feeling like a stalked whitetail, Bella felt like she was bounding through the forest, escaping from an ominous fate. But despite going as fast as she can, she still felt impossibly slow.  
She, close behind Rick, Shane, and Daryl, finally broke through the tree line into a manmade clearing, revealing a white church in the middle. The bells had stopped at some point, but it _had_ to be from here. The three men paused at the edge, looking warily at that open field that was strewn about with grave markers. Bella, not giving a damn, simply sprinted around them. Ponytail swinging, she knew she looked positively mad as she streaked across the cemetery.

Leaving the audible protests of the group behind in the wind, she pulled her bow back around her front and nocked her arrow. Once she reached the bright red doors of the church, without any sort of stealth or discretion, Bella kicked the doors in with her bow up and ready to shoot.

Everything felt instinctual – like muscle memory. She didn't even have to think as she aimed at the walker that hid risen in the front of the room. Before she even heard the _thump_ of its fallen body, Bella had already let loose her second arrow. The third one, a groom, wasn't even halfway across the room before it fell. With just the bride left, she unsheathed her knife from her forearm, hearing the others just reach the doors. With a calculated move, she thrusted it in the woman's snarling head.

The others still stood at the doorway, gazing in disbelief. Breathing heavily in the middle of the aisle, she just stood there staring at the first walker she killed. Arrow sticking out of its head, its jumbled-up limbs looked morbid as it lied splayed in front of a display depicting the crucifixion of Jesus. Taking a deep breath, with hands clenching her bow tightly, she began to retrieve her arrows. With none-too-gentle movements, her aggressive yanks were the only thing that betrayed her aggravation.

As the group began to shuffle in, she practically collapsed on the risen platform where the alter was. Lying on her back with legs bent and dangling over the podium, Bella looked up and saw the carved, solemn face of Jesus looking down at her. Holding back a groan, she covered her eyes with an arm. Just focusing on her breathing, Bella blocked out the soft mumbles of the group.

At some point, she was distinctly aware that the bells had started ringing. But she remained just as she was, exhausted, even as the others went back outside to find the source. When it stopped only a moment later, she knew that it was nothing. That this place was nothing.

Carol, who had come back in and sat down unbeknown to Bella, began to pray. As Bella listened to her confess about her fears and guilt over Ed, she began to understand Carol. When Bella first met the group, she felt almost a kinship with Carol, a single mom whp only her daughter. She never asked Carol about the father, and Carol never brought it up. But slowly, everything, from the way Carol and Sophia were almost skittish to how Carol avoided talking about her life from before, began to click into place.

However, it brought a torrent of buried memories – stuff she hasn't thought about in years. Memories she _definitely_ did not need to be thinking about right now. Eyes squeezed shut, Bella reverted her attention back to her breathing.

Her fingers subtly began to tap, forming an unseen rhythm. Focusing on her fingers, sound began to fill her head. Slowly, her muscles began to relax, and she felt like she could breathe again.

Once she felt grounded, Bella finally opened her eyes. Meeting Jesus's solemn stare, Bella couldn't help but discreetly slipping him the middle finger. She looked down and saw Carol and Lori sitting in the front bench. Feeling another stare, she turned her head to the side and saw Daryl leaning against the wall, one foot propped up against it, looking back at her. She knew he probably watched her as she was grounding herself, but he seemed more confused by her actions than anything.  
This made her satisfied. Feeling more like herself, she sat back up, put on her quiver, and slung her bow around her shoulders. Bella quietly stood up and began to walk back out of the stifling church, pausing only to lightly squeeze Carol's shoulder.

* * *

 _Josephine U. Natastachi_

 _October 13, 1937 – June 7, 2009_

 _Beloved mother, daughter, and wife_

Bella looked down at the golden, cursive engraving. She read it over and again, hardly thinking as she did it. Repeating it in her head, fingers tapping, she continued up until Shane's voice interrupted her right after she read "June."

"You all should head back. Cross over to the other side of the creek and continue looking for the girls as you go. Rick and I are gonna scope this area out for another hour to make sure we covered everything."

Most of the group were sitting underneath a tree in the cemetery. Bella was leaning on her shoulder against the tree trunk, arms crossed and eyes down at the grave marker. A few feet away, Daryl shifted, hands bracing against the strap of his crossbow. "Us splittin' up – you sure?"

Shane nodded. "We'll catch up after." Bella could hear the reluctance in his voice.

Carl stepped up. "I want to stay with you guys." Unfazed by Shane's disbelief, he insisted, "I'm her friend."  
With a sigh, Lori kissed Carl's head. "Stay safe. And don't stray from your father." 

The group stopped to take a long break at a clearing that lied on a hill. The sun was low, casting a reddish blanket over the forest. The bright red clouds in the sky looked inflamed. Shadows broke through the glow, creating dark lines across the ground.

Everyone was muted and disheartened. Quietly drinking or eating, no one had much to say. Daryl scanned the group, taking count of who was there. Realizing one green-eyed woman was missing, he scanned along the trees till he saw her sitting a couple feet away.

She was looking out through a break in the trees. Since there was only a decline beyond the clearing, they were able to see parts of the forest below them and the setting sun. Resting on a fallen trunk, she stared out into the bleeding sky, thumb rubbing against the cool, smooth surface of her bow.

She was the only one not eating or drinking, and he couldn't see anything else on her beside her weapons. He vaguely remembered everyone being given a granola bar during lunch, something to eat along with whatever they brought for themselves. Realizing she had nothing else during the whole day, Daryl shook his head.

Daryl made his way over. Her hair was tied back, revealing her face glowing in the sun's rays. She barely reacted or addressed him when he stood above her.  
He held out his canteen. "Here."

During their hunts, it was common for them to share one. Either because they had little water to spare or simply because they didn't need the extra weight, typically only one person brought their bottle. So, it wasn't unfamiliar for him to give her his.

"I'm fine." She didn't even spare a glance.

Slightly peeved, he shot out at her, "you don't gotta act like this."

That caught her attention. Bristling, she spoke with a cold, icy tone. "What are you talking about?"

He waved his canteen, irritated. "Not drinkin' some damn water. Movin' away from the group without sayin' a word. Runnin' into the church with no plan or backup. We don't need to be chasin' after you to make sure your ass doesn't get bit."

She scoffed. "I can take care after myself. You shouldn't be focusing on me but on my daughter."  
Daryl scowled. Letting out a huff, he tried to calm himself down. "Look, when your girl comes back, she needs to have a mother to come back to."

At that, Bella finally looked up at him. She appraised him, staring warily at his eyes. He wasn't quite sure what she saw – or what she wanted to see. He tried to stop scowling. Finally, she sighed. Her defensive stare softened until she nodded and accepted his canteen.

Just then, a resounding _crack_ of a gunshot echoed through the forest. 

* * *

**AN: In case you were wondering what Bella's bow looks like, I've always imagined a black, traditional recurve bow. It would look a lot like a Hoyt Buffalo, which is the bow Katniss uses in the film Catching fire and Hawkeye uses in Age of Ultron. I like the look/style of recurve bows rather than compound bows (which are the more modern, gadget-y looking ones)**

 **Also, the name/date on the grave marker are inspired by an account from a woman who's grandparents had been part of the Trail of Tears.**


	11. Save the Last One

"What was that? Was that a gunshot?" Lori was standing up, distraughtly looking back toward the direction they came from. Daryl and Bella had just rushed back to the group, bursting through the tree line. Everyone jumped when they crashed through, uneasily shifting their eyes around.

Daryl began pacing around the camp, eyes squinting, trying to perceive any possible dangers around the group. "Sounds like it."

Lori, brown eyes wide, stared at him with an intensity. "Well, why _one_ gunshot? Rick and Shane wouldn't waste a single bullet, even if there was one walker."

Carol anxiously looked back. "What should we do? They should've caught up to us by now."

Daryl hoisted his crossbow from his back. "Nothin' we can do. Can't be chasin' echoes. It's getting' late – best we head back before it gets dark."

He turned around and began to hear the others follow close behind. But he walked at most two steps before he heard Andrea. Speaking to Carol, she spoke softly with a consoling tone. "I'm sorry you're going through this. I understand the pain."  
Carol, worn and voice wavering, nodded sympathetically. "I suppose you do," she sniffled. "I'm praying we find those little girls. It's the not knowing that kills me. Just the thought of her out there – she could wind up like Amy."  
Good lord. Carol gasped, hand flying up to her mouth. "I'm so sorry. That was the meanest thing I've said."

Daryl looked around and saw Bella standing off to the side from the two women. Leaning against the tree, she was looking up at the sky, tapping her fingers against the bark. Taking in her obvious discomfort, Andrea's thrown off face, and Carol's watery eyes, Daryl felt exasperated by the latter two women's lack of faith. They goddamn just started looking, and they're acting like it's over already.

Andrea swallowed thickly. Slowly shaking her head, she said with difficulty, "It's okay. We are all praying and hoping for your little girls, for what it's worth."  
Daryl stalked up to them, looking Carol in the eyes. "Lemme tell you, all these thoughts and prayers aren't worth a damn thing. They're a waste of time more anything." Carol blinked back in shock. "'Cause we are gonna find the two, and they're both gonna be just fine. Am I the only one zen around here?"

Huffing, he turned around and began to walk up ahead of the group. But as he moved back, he passed Bella. Briefly making eye contact, he saw with a jolt that she was biting her lip, seemingly trying to hide a smile. Unsure of what else to say, Daryl took up the lead.

The group continued to trek their way back. Focusing on the terrain around him, he tried not to think about the little girls. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, June had grown on him. The thirteen year-old had weirdly taken a liking to Daryl, something she expressed easily. The time he spent teaching her how to properly skin and gut, how to prevent puncturing the organs, and so forth was something he not necessarily enjoyed, but it made him feel a part of the group. He was important to the whole as a necessity – he could hunt and thus sustain them. But rarely anyone approached to have any sort of conversation.

Granted, Merle and he were hardly the most agreeable. They were volatile, and Merle really knew how to run his mouth to get under people's skins. But without his brother's temperamental presence, Daryl had to figure out what kind of person he'd be in the group. If Merle was here, he wouldn't have held back on saying running around this forest for two little girls was pointless. It was probably because Bella and June had joined after Merle left that June especially doesn't seem to be wary of him.

"How much farther have we got?"

Daryl glanced into the forest before looking back at Andrea. "Not too far. Should be there by the time the sun sets as the crow flies."  
He distinctly heard Andrea muttering to herself. This woman is constantly looking out to lash out at anyone. She's got an attitude that Daryl could barely have the patience to handle.

As if she read his thoughts, she began shrieking off to the side. Immediately, he bolted toward the sound. Everyone began to desperately run toward Andrea. The good thing is she's still screaming – she's still alive. His eyes scanned the forest as he ran, crossbow up at the ready.

He spots the walker before he sees Andrea. Knowing that this was what caused her to become hysterical, he raised his crossbow at eye level. Finger on the trigger, he prepared to let his bolt fly. But then he hears something else. Something loud crashing through the forest from the opposite direction.

A young woman on the back of a horse is galloping her way over. Without an introduction, she raises a baseball bat and with a violent swing, bashes in the walker's head. Turning the horse back around, she loomed over Andrea while looking around at the oncoming group.

"Lori? Lori Grimes?" Daryl sized up the woman. She looked clean and didn't carry anything else besides the bat, suggesting she had a camp. Typically, a camp means more people.

Lori stepped up. Hesitant, she said, "That's me."  
The horse girl, out of breath, rushed out, "You need to come with me. Rick sent me, and Carl has been shot." Before Lori could even react, the girl continued. "He's alive, but you need to come with me right now."  
Without argument, Lori hoisted herself behind the girl, much to Daryl's disbelief. "Hey, what are you doin'? We don't know who this girl is."  
Lori and the girl ignored him, much to his annoyance. The girl continued as if he wasn't even there, "Rick said you guys were camped out on the highway. Head back to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. The name's Greene – you'll see it on the mailbox."

At that, the horse was propelled forward, leaving behind a very bewildered group. Off the two went, riding toward the fucking sunset. They weren't even out of sight when the walker started to rise up again, snarling.

Vexed by the overall situation and the blatant disregard to his words, Daryl shot the walker and growled, "Shut up."

Yanking out his bolt, he then marched past Bella's quiet presence, not looking back at the others, before heading to their camp.

Breaking through the tree line and heading to the RV, he saw a confused and concerned Dale heading his way over.

"What happened out there? Where's everybody else?"

Glenn spoke, winded. "Carl got shot. We didn't see it happen, but this random chick came out like Zorro on a horse and took Lori with her."

Dale's eyebrows shot up to his fishing hat. "You just let her go with this woman?"

Still peeved, Daryl muttered as he hopped over the guardrail, "Climbed outta my asshole, man. Girl said Rick sent her. Told us where their farm was."

Dale nodded, relieved. "That's good. We can head our way over. We'd finally have a safe place to stay for the night."

Bella scoffed. She turned around, shaking her head at the ground with her hands on her hips. However, it was a desperate Carol that spoke out. "We can't just leave."

Dale tried to reason with her. "Our group is split. We are weak out here, and being apart from the others won't help."  
Bella turned back around and leaned her hip against a car, arms crossed. "What if the two come back, and we aren't even here?"

Andrea stepped up, shaking her head. "Guys, if they found their way back, and we're gone, that would just be awful."

Daryl accepted this. "We gotta' plan for this."

Bella, voice unyielding and eyes steely, said, "I'll stay behind. I'll hole up in one of these cars for the night if I have to."

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. I'll stay too. We can shack up in the RV. I say we pull our roots up tomorrow morning. Give us enough time to set up a big sign and some supplies."

Dale acquiesced. "If the RV is staying, then so will I."

Andrea nodded, "I'm in."

Glenn also agreed. But Dale cut in. "Not you. You gotta get T-Dog to the farm. If this place has any medicine, it could help him a lot more than we can." The group looked at T-Dog, who was quite pathetically wrapped in rags and was despondently sitting against the RV.

Glenn groaned. "Why is it always me?" Bella patted him on the shoulder.

Daryl then jolted. Heading to the motorcycle, he rummaged through the pack. Pulling out a clear bag, he walked back over to the group. He threw something at Dale before heading to the car next to Bella. "Get your oily rags off of my brother's bike."

He plopped the bag on top of the car's hood. He rummaged through the contents. "Crystal, X. Don't need those. We got some kick ass painkillers." Daryl tossed the pills to Glenn. As he did so, he saw Bella looking up at the sky – anywhere that isn't him or the bag. Her fingers were tapping against the hood, and she seemed to be taking in deep breaths. Slowly shrugging it off, he continued, "Oxycycline. First class stuff. Merle got the clapp on occasion."

Daryl headed toward the RV, planning on resting after today's long and fruitless trek. Climbing up the stairs, he looked back. Andrea was comforting Carol who was resting on the guardrail. Dale was helping T-Dog and Glenn prepare for their trip to the mystery farm. Bella was lying sprawled on the roof of a car, one arm covering her eyes. Her hair draped over the edge of the car, strands softly rippling in the low breeze. Shaking out of his loss of thought, he entered the RV without looking back.

* * *

Not long after Daryl heard the fading engine of the Cherokee driving away, Andrea and Carol had made their way into the RV. Bella and Dale haven't entered, so he assumed either was on guard duty. Outside was dark, and only thin strips of natural moonlight slipped through the blinds. Carol had settled back into the bunk, while Andrea had begun cleaning and assembling the groups' guns. After Bella taught her how, it's all Andrea has been doing – a new nervous habit.

Try as he might, Daryl couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't long until he began to hear Carol's soft sobs. Between that and the constant clinking of metal from Andrea's guns, he could hardly relax. Sitting up, he looked at the silhouette of Carol's shaking form, and with a sigh he heaved himself up.

Wanting to escape from all the noise, he quietly walked his way toward the front of the RV, grabbing a flashlight on the way out. But when he reached the door, which was propped open to let air into the RV, he heard the faint voices of Dale and Bella above him. Something about their tone made them hesitate. Stopping at one of the lower steps, he leaned against the doorframe and listened.

" – that's understandable, but you know being here with us is better than the two of you girls out there alone? Do you truly regret leaving that water tower?" Dale was speaking imploringly. Daryl stopped breathing, straining to hear Bella's softer voice. But it was a while before she spoke.

"I did," she admitted. "Even before we lost June, I felt out of touch. After having to take care of myself and June for so long without help, even before the turn, I wasn't sure if I'd ever be comfortable with such a big group. And when I ran back after that herd to find out she wasn't there, I –" She broke off, taking a deep breath. "I was pissed. But it took me a while to realize it wasn't because of anybody in the group, even Rick."

Daryl heard periodic thumps, and realized she was sitting on the edge of the RV again, swinging her leg back and forth.

"June's mother – her real mother – never particularly liked or trusted me. She thought her parents taking in 'troubled kids' was dangerous and unnecessary. June was only a baby when I joined their household, and I was only fourteen. It was only because of her grandparents I ever even saw June."

Daryl was struck by just how _exhausted_ she sounded.

"After Joshua and Darlene passed away, the only time I saw June and her mother was at their funeral. She made it very clear she didn't want me around. She thought I'd be a negative influence for her daughter. But years later, when the opportunity came, I decided to keep June. I was twenty-one and in a very bad place during my life. And I've always wondered if that made me selfish. I knew by taking her in, I'd be way over my head. I can't help but think about that, especially now."

Dale spoke, aghast. "I've only known you two girls for about a week, but already I can see that June _adores_ you. This isn't on you, so don't even think like that."

They didn't speak after that. Feeling uncomfortable and almost guilty, Daryl berated himself for just lurking there. He tried to pull on a neutral expression before loudly making his way down.

When he pulled around to the front of the RV, he could still feel the heaviness in the air. Squinting, he shined his flashlight up to the two on the roof.

Not addressing their solemn expressions, Daryl spoke. "I'm gonna go walk along the forest. Shine my flashlight around and give the girls something to look at."

He wasn't surprised when Bella responded, standing up. "I'll come with."

Dale raised his eyebrows, concerned. "You two sure that's a good idea right now?"  
In response, Bella simply went over to Dale, took his flashlight right from his own hand, and patted his fishing hat-adorned head good naturedly before climbing down. Lightly landing on her feet, she went up to Daryl, waiting for him to take the lead.

They walked in mutual silence for a while. He glanced down at her after a bit. Her hair was down, shining under the full moon's glare. She seemed more relaxed than she was when they first left the RV.

After trekking the woods for a bit, she first broke the silence. Sounding light and nonchalant, albeit strained, she asked, "Do you really believe we'll find Sophia and June, or are you just trying to prevent the group from breaking down?"

Taken aback by her blunt question, Daryl shined his flashlight onto her face in disbelief. "Don't tell me you are startin' to think like the others."

Scoffing, he said, "This ain't the mountains of Tibet. This is Georgia." He squinted into the trees. "They could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere. Plus, from what I've seen from your little girl, she can handle herself."

"But both of them are so young." Daryl didn't know why she was trying to argue against it. But he figured it's only to have him confirm what she already knows.

"Hell, I was younger than them when I got lost." He moved around a rock jutting from the ground. "Nine days in the woods of Northern Georgia, eatin' berries and wipin' my ass with poison oak."

Eyebrow raised, she asked, "Did they find you?"

"Nah. My old man was off on a bender with some waitress, and Merle was serving a stint in juvie. Didn't even know I was gone. I made my way back though," he said briefly looking at her. Bella silently pointed at his canteen, unsurprisingly forgetting hers again. He handed his to her as he continued, "Went straight to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear."

He looked off to the side again, unsure if he saw movement, as Bella raised the canteen to take a sip. "Except my ass itched something awful."

Suddenly hearing a strange noise from his side, he looked over in surprise. Bella had choked gracelessly on her water. As she was recovering, he realized that she was _laughing._ It wasn't loud or obnoxious, but it was something. It was better than her sulking.

Bella noticed her staring at him, and assuming it was out of offense, she shook her head, pulling a straight face. "I'm sorry. That's an awful story." But when she looked back up at him, a smile broke through and a snort escaped. Soon, the two were both lightly laughing.

After that, they quieted down again, but the mood was much lighter than before. Daryl didn't realize that one corner of his mouth was still quirked up, but he noticed it on Bella's.

 _Snap._

In a heartbeat, the two had their weapons raised up toward the sound. Crouching, they edged toward it, flashlights raised. They inched their way forward until they came across a tent, not unlike the green one they found earlier in the day. The main difference was that this one had a snarling walker dangling from a tree.

Daryl leaned forward, light shining on a note nailed to the tree.

 _Got bit_

 _Fever hit_

 _World gone to shit_

 _Might as well quit_

He settled back, pointing his flashlight at the walker. "Dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head."

Bella cocked her head, reading the poem. "He did know how to write such a lovely poem."  
Daryl snorted. He noticed her moving away towards the tent. "What're you doin'?"

She shone her light into the tent, peering through the mesh. "He might have some stuff we can bring back to the RV. Anything and everything are valuable these days."

As she entered the tent, Daryl scoured the ground around it. Finding a pack of dusty, but completely usable Morley cigarettes, he picked it up and pulled out a stick. He took out his lighter from his pocket and lit it up. While smoking, he leaned against the walker tree, absentmindedly watching the walker snarl and reach for him. One arm crossed, the other upright, he flicked off the ashes.

When Bella came out, she had a leather satchel slung around her shoulders torso, filled with who knows what. Daryl looked at her almost expectantly, and right on cue, her eyebrows furrowed and her body tensed. It was subtle. He probably wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't looking for it. But seeing her react like that every time they hunt, a time where movements matter and mean something, it was easy for him to pick up on it.

Taking a last drag, Daryl dropped the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. Nodding his head toward the camp, he pushed himself from the tree and said, "Let's head out."

He started to walk away but noticed that Bella wasn't moving. Instead, she was staring at the walker, head tilted. "What?"

"Shouldn't we..." Her voice trailed off. She gestured toward the walker.

He frowned. "Nah. He made his choice. Let him be. We don't need to waste an arrow."

Still, she didn't move. Studying the tree, she said, "You can boost me up, and I'll just cut it down afterwards."  
"Why?"

Bella shrugged. "He's somebody. Probably had a family. Seems wrong to just leave it like this."

Knowing she was about to stray toward depressing thoughts, he conceded. "Fine. But in exchange for an answer to a question."

Bella looked back at him suspiciously. "Fine."

It was probably stupid and unimportant, but he still asked. "Why do you look at me like I'm kickin' a puppy every time I take a smoke?"

She grimaced. Running a hand through her hair, she shifted uneasily before reluctantly answering. "Bad habit before I had June. It was one of the many things I cut out from my life. Still hard to be around, I guess. Especially in a stressful time like now."

Without a word, he raised his crossbow up and let a bolt fly. To her obvious relief, he didn't ask any more questions, and instead walked over the tree and bent down to one knee. He interlocked his hands on top of his thigh. She came up and after stepping on his hands, he boosted her up. Bella carefully scaled the tree and used her knife to cut the rope before dropping back to the ground.

It was then that Daryl decided to refrain from smoking around Bella.

* * *

 **AN: anyone thinks they know what Bella did before the turn?**


	12. Cherokee Rose

Driving up to the farm felt very surreal for Bella. Looking at the open land, barn, and main house sprawled on the green hills, she could've easily been back at the old ranch. Sitting next to the edge of the forest, the farm gave her a sense of déjà vu. Bella stared wistfully out the window. She was maybe a little bit homesick.

As they drove up to the house, Bella couldn't have hopped out faster. It wasn't till after she and Daryl came back to the RV last night that she guiltily remembered Carl. She was rather fond of him, and she hadn't given as much thought about him as she should've. To be stressed about _three_ kids felt like too much. She needed to know he was okay. She needed him to _be_ okay.

Seeing Rick and Lori walk out to the porch, Bella and the group made their way over.

"How is he?" She asked hesitantly, being the one to brave it out.

Lori smiled. "He'll pull through. Thanks to Hershel and all of his people," she said, gesturing to the group behind her. The man known as Hershel had white hair that would put Dale to shame. Standing in front of his family, it was clear he spoke for them all.

Rick stepped up. "And Shane. If it weren't for him, we would've lost Carl." Looking over, Shane would've looked rather amusing in his new overalls and plaid if it wasn't for the solemn, almost haunted, look on his face. With a new strict buzzcut, he looked uncomfortable by the group's staring. Not matching the message of Rick's statement, he seemed more solemn than celebratory.

Relieved, Bella stepped up and hugged Rick. She felt him freeze in surprise, but he gratefully returned it. Moving to Lori, she asked, "Is he up?" while giving a hug.

Although elated, Lori had bags under her bloodshot eyes – something her, Carol, and Bella shared. "He woke up just now but goes in and out."

Once everyone greeted each other, it was clear that something seemed to be haunting all of those who were at the ranch overnight, especially the Greene family. It wasn't long before they revealed that Otis, the man who accidentally shot Carl in the first place, had sacrificed his life to get Carl the equipment he needed to live.

At Otis's funeral, Hershel gave a eulogy in a composed, yet somber tone. He had a way of speaking that Bella liked, even during a time such as this. He spoke slowly yet surely with a stability that came with experience and old age.

When Shane was asked to speak on behalf of Otis, his dark, almost black, eyes kept shifting around. Looking anywhere besides Otis's friends and family, he recounts the heroic final actions of Otis. But try as she might, Bella could not get over the eyes of Shane.

She felt a selfish relief when the group finally disbanded to begin planning the search for the two girls. Standing between Daryl and Rick, she looked down at the county map that was placed on the hood of their car by the horse girl – Maggie.

Rick seemed much more invigorated than she has seen in a long time, but then again, so did she. Something about being on this farm with a stable place to stay and just having a _map_ made this feel like a much more legit and proper search. "This is perfect," he said. "We can grid up the land and search in teams. We'll cover ground we haven't reached in a shorter amount of time than before."  
Hershel, who stood across from her, calmly cut in. "Not you," he said to Rick. "You lost a lot of blood yesterday. You're going to have to sit out for the day to gain back your strength. And you-" He turned to Shane beside him. "You can't move around on that ankle for a while. Push it now, you'll be laid up a month."

Daryl next to her hoisted up his crossbow and looked down at Bella. "Guess it's just us two. We can head up to this part of the creek and work our way down from there."

She looked at the part of the map he was pointing to. "We could spread more ground if we split up. One of us can be here -" she pointed to one block. "- and the other can be here." She moved her finger to the block next to it. "That way we won't be too far apart, but we can still go through more land."

He hesitated before nodding. "Sounds like a plan. You ready to go?"

Bella pushed herself off of the car. "Yeah. I just want to check on Carl before we go. I'll meet you here when I'm done." At that, she walked purposely off toward the house.

Not long after she left, Shane spoke out. "I hate to be the one to bring it up, but what if we find them and one, if not both, are bit?"

Daryl shot him a sour look, not bothering to hide his contempt. Rick sighed heavily. "We'll do what needs to be done."

At this, Maggie bristled. "And their mothers? What will y'all tell them?"

Andrea exhaled. "The truth."

* * *

Bella knocked softly on the door before peeking her head in. A lady, Patricia, was sitting on a chair next to Carl's side. The two of them looked up at her, and Patricia, with a soft smile, quietly got up to give them some space.

Looking down at Carl, Bella felt her chest both ache and feel relief at the same time. Pale and clammy, he looked – well – shitty. Bandages wrapped around his abdomen, but he still grinned up at her.

"A nurse?"

Bella laughed. "Oh, lord. It's truly pitiful how wrong you always are. You better get used to not knowing for a while."

"Stay-at-home mom?"

She snorted, settling back in the chair. "I wish. That's the dream, isn't it?"

"A vigilante superhero?"

Bella winked. "Don't tell anyone my secret."

He laughed, but soon winced right after. Sensitive and healing, the movement was too much for him. Bella felt guilty, but when Carl still smiled at her, she couldn't believe his ability to bounce back.

Sobering up, she looked at him with a soft expression. "How you holdin' up?"

He gave a one shoulder shrug. "I saw a deer – that was pretty cool."

Bella rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. "I think you've seen enough to last you for a while."

"Nah. You're going to teach me how to hunt one."

She tilted her head. "As soon as you're up and able."

Carl paused before asking, "Are you going out there to search today?"

Bella sighed. Looking toward the open window, she nodded.

"Maybe you just gotta think about what you would do in her situation. If everything she knows is from you, she'll probably do whatever you do."

A breeze entered the room, ruffling her strands. She gathered her hair onto one side of her shoulder and began to braid. As she did so, she smiled at Carl. "You might suck at guessing what I do, but that was some pretty solid advice."

When she finished her braid, a few loose strands framed her face. Bella noticed Carl beginning to nod his head. "Rest," she said gently.

He blinked slowly at her. "Be back before dark, okay?"

"Of course." Touching Carl lightly on the arm, she got up to meet Daryl outside.

* * *

Daryl leaned against the tree, waiting. He was still annoyed by his recent conversation with Rick. He shook his head. Bastard coming up to him all high and mighty, saying Daryl didn't have to go out there. What else was he gonna do all day? Wash his panties and prop his feet up like all the others?

Seeing Bella finally leave the house, he pushed himself off of the trunk. Geared up and ready to go, she had a lightness to her walk. She was the most high-spirited he's seen her been in the past couple of days. Wearing her black cargo pants and a light grey tank, she had her hair into a braid – that's definitely new. As she approached, he was satisfied to see that she remembered to bring her own water bottle.

When she caught up to them, they began heading to the forest that framed the edge of the farm. "How's the kid?"

She smiled at him. Her sudden vitality was a little disorienting – if not concerning. "Carl was awake when I came to see him. He's still pretty weak, but kid's got spunk."

By the time they reached the creek, Bella seemed to have centered herself for the oncoming day. In a serious manner Daryl is more used to, she said, "I haven't seen any signs of this yet, but I was thinking back to the way beginning when June and I first lived in the forest. We found the water tower pretty early on, but there were still a few days where we lived out in the open. I told June if she ever got lost to carve a diagonal line on a tree and continue doing that to form a trail. If the diagonal is slanted downward to the left, then that means it's 'pointing' to the left direction." Bella gave a one-shouldered shrug. "But I rarely left her alone, and she never had to use it. She might not even remember me telling her, but it's something."

Daryl nodded thoughtfully, scanning the creek. "It's something," he repeated.

She made to move toward her block of the grid. "Back before dark, alright?" He called out.

Bella nodded. "Back before dark," she repeated. With a small wave, she turned around and disappeared into the trees.

A couple hours later, Daryl, to his immense disappoint, still hadn't found any signs of the girls, or people for that matter. It wouldn't be long before he had to turn back. While it was possible Bella could've had better luck in her grid, the long day made Daryl rather dejected.

With a heavy sigh, he stifled his thoughts and stalked through the forest, alert for any stray print or carving. After a while, he unexpectedly walked into a clearing. Even more unexpected was the wooden house in the middle of it. His heart beating a little faster, he breathed in deeply. Crossbow up, he cautiously entered the already opened door.

Despite his best effort to keep quiet, the whole house seemed to have groaned under his feet. Every step he made was a catalyst for some sort of creaking. Putting stealth behind him, Daryl made his way around the living space, checking inside rooms as he went.

As he passed through what was a once a dining room, he did a double take. Resting in a garbage can was an opened and empty can of sardines. Picking it up with one hand, he observed the still liquid contents and gave it a whiff. Definitely still ripe.

Before he could let himself get carried away by the implication of this rank tin can, he casted a critical eye around the room. Seeing a closet in the corner with its door slightly ajar, Daryl levelled his crossbow and slowly moved forward. With one hand, he quickly opened the door.

Seeing it was empty, he lowered his crossbow, disappointed. But then he looked down and saw a pillow and blanket sprawled across its floor. Squatting, he studied it. There wasn't dirt on top of the them, suggesting it was somewhat recent. There was no body warmth to suggest it had been used within the past couple of minutes. And it was also in a small, cramped space. Big enough for a child but too small for an adult. What concerned him however, was that it was big enough only for _one_ child.

Uneasy, he went back out the front door. Scanning the ground and trees around him, he recklessly called out, "June! Sophia!"

No response.

Heart pounding, Daryl stalked around the house looking for any signs of life. Ultimately, both discouraged and hopeful, he made his way back to the front.

Something caught his eye. He exhaled. While he didn't see the two little girls, Daryl moved forward before kneeling over two white blossoms.

* * *

Daryl walked out of the RV, letting out a heavy sigh. The sun was setting, marking the end of another day. Another day without the girls.

The thought of coming back to the farm empty handed didn't sit right with him. So, here he was, with just a flower in a shabby beer bottle. He'd just given the other one to Carol, to his relief, seemed to greatly appreciate the thought. This whole comforting thing wasn't exactly his forte, so the sooner this could end, the better. Now, he just had to find the other recipient.

Carol said she was back, but Daryl didn't see her on his way to the camp. Eyes scanning the now golden hills, he spotted a figure on the white porch of the house. Taking a deep breath, he made his way across the field.

Sitting on the top of the few steps that led to the white porch, Bella sat on the floor against one of the beams. Knees pulled up to her chest, her arms loosely wrapped around her legs. Her hair was damp, her ends barely beginning to curl back into her waves. The side of her head rested on her knees, so that she was looking out toward the sun. Washed aglow in the soft light, she hardly seemed to notice his approaching figure until he stood off to the side at the bottom of the steps.

Not even raising her head, Bella nodded out to the field. "Our ranch looked a lot like this. We lived in the city for a while, but we'd always come back to countryside whenever we could."

Daryl looked out too, taking in the scenery for what felt like the first time.

Turning back at the despondent woman sitting in front of him, he steeled himself and took out the bottle from behind his back – not that she would've even seen it even if he carried it in front of him – and set it lightly on the step below Bella. Raising her head for the first time, she blinked slowly at it before looking back up at him.

Daryl didn't know if he'd ever get used to Bella's eyes. While they didn't unsettle him as much as they did the first time he met her, they still startled him every damn time. Honestly, it was almost embarrassing how agitated he gets over some damn eyes. But from what the others at camp say, Daryl certainly wasn't the only one. That gave him little comfort.

Her voice broke his train of thought. "A flower?"

Daryl gripped onto his crossbow. Like an anchor, it grounded him and his thoughts. "It's a Cherokee rose."  
Her eyes looked back down at it, a small smile ghosting her lips. Reaching out. she lightly pressed a petal with her fingers.

"The story is that when American soldiers were movin' Indians off their land on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much 'cause they were losin' their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation."  
Her eyes met his again, this time with a glisten that definitely wasn't there before. Daryl blinked and continued.

"A lot of them just disappeared. So, the elders, they – uh – said a prayer. Asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope. The next day, this rose," he gestured to it, "started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell."

Daryl sighed and leaned against the stairs' railing. "I'm not a fool and think that there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother. But I believe this one bloomed for your little girl."  
Bella let in a deep breath, seemingly overcome with emotion. Blinking fast, she looked up at the pink sky and weakly joked, "Oh god. Don't look at me."

Daryl smiled, a subtle quirk of the lips. He nodded toward the field. "She's gonna like it here."

Bella looked back at him, eyes gentle and genuine. "Thank you," she said softly.

With a nod, he turned back around and slowly headed back to the camp.

Daryl didn't mention that when he first saw the blossoms, he thought of the green-eyed woman inked with flowers.

* * *

 **AN: I like to think that Daryl is genuinely low-key creeped out by her eye poor Daryl**


	13. Chupacabra

Rick, Shane, and Daryl stared incredulously at Bella. More accurately, they gawked at the two unzipped, giant duffle bags that Bella had plopped in front of them. Filled with every firearm imaginable and countless of ammo, the duffle bags looked as though they were about to burst at the seams.

Rick, with a look on his face that Daryl could only see as awe, picked up a Blaser R8 with reverence. Bella stood with a slightly sheepish expression. Biting her lip, she shifted onto her leg, waiting for somebody to break the silence.

Shane shook his head in disbelief. "You've had these the whole time?"

Defensively raising her eyebrow at his rather antagonistic tone, Bella simply said, "yes."

Daryl assessed the contents in the bag. Rummaging around, he saw about two dozen hand guns and a dozen of a variety of rifles and shotguns and the same weight in ammo. "Why you didn't say anythin'?"

"Would _you_ immediately give this up to a group of people you don't even know?"

The three men accepted this. Daryl thought about back at the water tower when he first saw one of the duffle bags. He just assumed it carried a lot of clothes and equipment. But then he remembered how Bella refused to let him help carry hers, and how he never actually saw where the duffle bags were kept in the water tower.

As if reading his thoughts, she continued. "June's grandparents basically had an arsenal. Joshua was a weapons enthusiast and sought to collect quite a bit. This isn't even half of what he had. When we found the water tower, we knew these were more valuable than anything else we had. June and I hid one on top of the roof of our room and buried the other in the forest."

Daryl looked up at her. "You know how to shoot all of these?"

"I worked at the only firearms store in town during my high school while living with a couple who owned more guns than years lived. I rarely needed to use them, but I definitely know how to."

Shane let out a low whistle as he looked through the long-range scope of a slim Armalite AR-15. "Well, Miss Bella," he said, sounding impressed. "You are truly somethin'."

She nodded, agreeing. "I know."

* * *

"Alright," Rick spoke loudly as the four entered their camp. Everybody else had woken up and were prepping for the oncoming day. Spreading the map back onto the car's hood, he continued, "We'll all be getting new search grids for the day. If the girls are anywhere around the farmhouse Daryl found, they'll be here."

The young boy from the farm, Jimmy, stepped up next to Bella, who stood across the hood from Daryl. "I want to help. I know the area pretty well – I can be of some use." Buttoning up his shirt, Daryl squinted at the kid in disbelief.

Rick also hesitated. But more people, the better. "Does Hershel know?" Jimmy nodded earnestly.

Shane exhaled from the side of the car. Lacing up his boots, he called out over his shoulder. "What Daryl found at the farmhouse doesn't exactly scream Sophia and June to me. Could've been anyone."

Andrea, always ready to challenge, shot back, "Anyone could mean them, right?"

Daryl shook his head. "The closet was pretty tiny. The person couldn't have been over yay-high," he said, gesturing at his chest.

Rick nodded. "It's a good lead which could lead to many more signs. Maybe we could even pick up their trail about it."  
"No maybe about it." Daryl reached over the map and pointed along the creek's bend. "I'm gonna grab a horse and take it along here. It's high up. Gives a good vantage point."

T-Dog, who stood beside Daryl, smirked at him. "Good idea. Maybe you could see your Chupacabra from up there too." Daryl rolled his eyes, refusing to be baited.

A smile crept on to Bella's face. Cocking her head, she asked, "Chupacabra?"

Daryl huffed. Although Daryl clearly didn't want to talk about it, Dale took over, corner of his mouth quirked up. "You haven't heard the story? First night Daryl was in camp, he tells us this whole thing reminds him of a time he saw a Chupacabra while squirrel hunting."

Eyes wide, Bella's smile got bigger. Although she resisted the urge to snort, Jimmy didn't hide his snicker. Daryl narrowed his eyes at that. "What you brayin' at, jackass?"

Jimmy's smile faltered only slightly. "You believe in blood-sucking dogs?"

Daryl scoffed. "You believe in the dead walking around?"

At that, everyone paused and considered that. Jimmy, who, to Daryl, seemed as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike, boldly reached for the rifle that laid across the hood.

Bella's eyes widened. Preventing the kid from taking it, she placed her hand on the rifle while saying, "Hey there. Have you ever even fired one before?"

Looking down at her, Jimmy gave an unencouraging one-armed shrug. "I can figure it out."  
Much to Daryl's amusement, Bella simply patted him on the arm, as if saying "maybe next time," before taking the rifle away.

* * *

Riding on a chestnut mare, Daryl trotted to the tree to retrieve the squirrel and his bolt. It was more out of habit than anything else that he even shot the rodent in the first place. They have hardly needed him and Bella to hunt anymore, and no one was going to want to eat this instead of the cooked food they were treated with at the farm. Yet thinking about the quiet, still mornings, he didn't hesitate to shoot it down.

Swinging his crossbow across his back, Daryl tied the squirrel to his line. Spurring the mare forward, his sharp eyes scanned the ravine. He hadn't seen much in the past couple of hours, but the day was hardly over.

Seeing something that stuck out against the natural setting, Daryl brought the horse to a stop before his brain even registered what he just saw. Squinting through the branches, his eyes strained to make out the item that rested along the edge of the creek. Deciding to go closer, Daryl hoped off from the saddle and tied the horse to a tree.

The incline down wasn't that steep, so Daryl easily made his way down to the stream. As he got closer, he recognized the small limp object. Its yarn hair lightly moving in the current, the button-eyed doll peered up at him. Daryl picked up Sophia's soggy and grimy doll. Holding on to it, he began to call out for the two girls. To his frustration, there was neither a response or sign of them. Eyes scouring the ground for some sort of sign, he slowly made his way back up to his horse.

With renewed focus and determination, Daryl looked down from the saddle toward the bottom of the creek. The sudden rustling of leaves spooked both him and the mare. Trotting anxiously, the mare swished her tail and began making soft braying noises. Patting her mane, Daryl clicked his tongue soothingly at her as he reoriented their direction.

The whole thing proved to be entirely futile. Soon after the mare began to calmly make her way forward, she decided to completely throw her rider off down to the ravine.

Before he even knew what was happening, Daryl was suddenly in the air. With a heavy thud, he landed on his side before the momentum caused him to altogether roll over the edge of the ravine. Gracelessly tumbling his way down the rocky and slippery incline, he felt branches and leaves slapping him mercilessly. At some point, a sharp pain blossomed on his side. Feeling like the fall would never end, Daryl finally, and painfully, plummeted into the rushing water.

Swearing, he attempted to catch his breath. But every time he attempted to move, an agonizing ache shot up through his abdomen. His hand instinctively went down to the source. Disoriented and seeing red, he briefly thought that instead of water, blood was rushing around him. Realizing that the blood was _his_ , he braced himself before lifting his head up to look at the offending wound.

Son of a bitch. There it was – his bolt sticking out of his side, looking no different than when he shot the squirrel. Too much in pain to even address his bad fortune, Daryl's head fell back into the water.

Once the pain barely subsided, Daryl took several deep breaths, ignoring his wound that complained with every movement. Now here comes the hard part. One hand pressed against his side, Daryl forced himself to sit up. He allowed himself to curse and groan for a minute before pushing himself to go even farther. Slowly and agonizingly making his way to the edge of the stream, Daryl bit on his tongue to prevent from making too much noise.

It took every ounce of self-restraint to force himself not to collapse against the ground. Knowing he probably wouldn't stand back up once he lies down, Daryl grabbed his hunting knife. With short, jerky movements, he slashed off his sleeves. Wrapping the shredded fabric around his waist, he secured the arrow in place to insure it won't cause any more damage. To his relief, he noted that it went through the very edge of his torso, meaning that it most likely did not hit any internal organs. He never thought he'd have to use his knowledge of anatomy and hunting on _himself._

Looking up at the edge that he had fallen over from, Daryl admitted he was fucked.

Still, he knew he couldn't just sit around and wait for some lucky walker to find his shot up ass. Grabbing a long stick from nearby, he began to wade back into the water. The pressure from his sleeves wrapped tightly around his waist helped alleviate the pain. Using the stick as a guide, he began to slowly move it along the ground of the stream. Hitting something solid and familiar, he bent down to retrieve his crossbow.

First step – done. Now the final one: climb up the ridge.

Daryl made it up pretty far, if he may say so himself. He was only a couple feet away from the edge before the earth decided to fuck him up even more.

Now having tumbled down for a _second_ time, Daryl allowed himself to black out.

* * *

When Daryl came to, his vision was blurred, and the world spun. Feeling as if the air itself was pushing him down, he could barely lift a finger if he wanted to. Disoriented, he realized that a face stood above him.

"Why don't you pull that arrow out, Dummy? You could bind your wound better?"

Recognizing his familiar drawl and unsympathetic expression, Daryl slurred out with great difficulty, "Merle."

Daryl couldn't help but feel _relief_ at seeing his older brother's face. To see Merle alive was something Daryl was never sure he'd be able to look upon.

Merle chuckled, looking over his brother's sprawled form. "What's goin' on here? You takin' a siesta or somethin'?"

"Havin' a shitty day, bro." What an understatement. But he knew Merle would be more likely to laugh than help him if he complained any more than that.

Still, Merle snorted. "Would you like me to fluff you up a pillow? Maybe rub your feet a little bit?"

"Screw you." It was hard to say it with malice when all he could do was slur out his words.

"Nah, little brother. You're the one screwed from the looks of it." Merle tsked. "All of those years of me tryin' to make a man outta ya. All gone to waste. Look at ya. Lyin' here like a used rubber. You're gonna die out here. And for what?"

It was getting harder to focus. "Two girls. They got lost in the forest."

"Oh, so you gotta thing for little girls now, huh? Or maybe for the mothers? Lookin' for some pussy aren't ya?" Merle chortled. "My little brother about to make himself into a man."

He felt anger. Anger at his brother, anger at his shit words, and anger at his goddamn situation.

"Shut the hell up, Merle. It ain't like that."

Merle scowled at him. "Well, if it ain't for pussy, why else would a man leave his own blood behind? Because I noticed you ain't lookin' out for your old Merle."

"We did, bro. Rick and I, we did right by you. Went out lookin' but you left. Cut your own hand off before we got to you."

Daryl's vision slipped. He vaguely noticed Merle's very not-missing hand still attached.

He could still here the condescension in his brother's voice. "You and Rick are pals now, huh? Or maybe you're just his bitch now. You're just the errand boy to the group. Nothin' but a joke to them. Redneck trash – that's all you are, even to them simpering mothers."

Merle continued. "One day, these people are gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dogshit. Don't say I didn't warn ya, little bro."

Daryl's eyes felt heavy. Eyelids fluttering, he begins to see black. But Merle wasn't having none of that. None too gently grabbing Daryl's face, he forced Daryl to look at him in the eyes. "Ain't nobody gonna care about you accept me, little brother. Ain't nobody ever will."

Daryl could hardly process what Merle was saying at that point. His dear older brother began kicking him, yelling at him to get up. But honestly, screw, Merle. Daryl just wants to _sleep._

But soon, Daryl first realizes that Merle definitely did not snarl or make those horrible rasping noises. Second, something is yanking at his leg, not kicking him. Third, the person there was not his brother but a walker.

His exhaustion long gone, Daryl kicks back at the walker, momentarily stunning it. Urgently looking around for any weapons he could use, Daryl realized he only had one option left. With a loud groan, he yanked out his bolt from his side in one brutal motion. Eyes stinging, he barely paused to swing his crossbow around. Putting his foot on the bow's stirrup, Daryl heaved and pulled back the string till it was cocked. Grabbing his single bloody bolt, in a heartbeat he aimed and released.

Once the adrenaline and pain subsided, Daryl had a moment of reflection. Here he was, down in a shitty ravine after being flung off of a damn horse. Got shot by his own arrow with no one out there knowing his whereabouts or conditions. He could go missing, and the rest of them probably wouldn't even notice. Hell, they would probably think he just decided to up and leave them, because that's the type of person they think he is.

"Damn bastard was right," Daryl muttered. Using his newfound anger as a crutch, he pushed himself up his ass and began to make the long and arduous journey back to the farm.

However, the anger still hadn't receded when he finally reached the farm. Half delirious from blood loss and just an overall shitty day, Daryl could barely keep himself upright. Seeing the stupid farm shining underneath the high sun, looking like a portrait, made him almost irate. It was as if it was taunting him by saying, "Look, Daryl. We're fine without you. Life goes on."

He stumbled his way past the forest and slowly made his way through the field. He didn't even notice that some of the group had been streaking towards him. But they didn't come with concern or compassion for his state. Nah, they came pointing with _guns_ at his head.

Looking at Rick, who was staring at him incredulously, Daryl fumed, "You gonna shoot me? Third time ya pointed that at m'head."

Rick had barely began lowering his gun when, with a loud _crack,_ Daryl felt himself being flung back.

"I was _kidding_."

* * *

Couple hours later, bruised and wounded Daryl was lying down in one of the rooms of the farmhouse. After speaking to Rick and being treated by the old man, he was left well alone by the others to rest. So, after days, if not weeks, of always having something to do, Daryl just lied in bed for the rest of day. Watching the light that shown through the curtains slowly make its way around the room before washing the inside with a golden hue, Daryl was obviously restless.

Although much calmer than he was before, he still couldn't make the effort to fall asleep. Despite every movement causing pain to shoot up his side, Daryl wanted nothing more to do something. _Anything._

It was then, when the sun began to make its way down, that a soft knock disturbed his thoughts. Thinking it was Carol, who stopped by earlier with food, or maybe even Hershel, Daryl simply grunted as an invitation. He heard the door open, and unexpectedly heard a low whistle. Mornings of hunting together with her made him aware that this person was definitely not Carol or Hershel.

A bit flustered, Daryl immediately raised up his blanket to cover his dirty, scarred torso. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Bella shaking her head in disbelief.

"You had a _day._ "

Wearing her ripped jeans and green tee from before, she still carried her bow and canteen. He realized that she probably had just come back from searching and hadn't stopped by camp to change or put her stuff away.

"A shit one," he muttered. Bella nodded in agreement. After standing unsurely in front of the door for a split second, she made her decision. Letting out a heavy sigh, she plopped on the chair next to him. She had streaks of dirt along her face and arms, and her tied back hair had some leaves and twigs sticking out of it.

"So," she started, eyes wide. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Didn't the others tell ya?"

She lightly raised her feet so that they rested along the side beam of the bed. "They just said Andrea shot you," Bella shook her head, still trying to process what that meant. "After that, I made my way over to check on you."

Unsure of what to make of that, Daryl began to recount a butchered version of what happened: got thrown off of that dumb horse, got stabbed by his own arrow, and then got shot by Andrea in a moment of confusion.

As he was speaking, Bella listened unblinkingly, taking in every detail. At some point, she leaned on her elbow, her hand pressed to her mouth. It wasn't till after he finished, that he noticed that she was pressing her lips together hard and her eyes were open way too wide.

"Are you –" he scoffed. "Are you _laughing_ at me?"

Her eyes widened even bigger, and she shook her head vigorously. But the attempt was ruined when a giggle escaped, and a smile broke through. "Oh god. I'm so sorry." She made a straight face, coming off as solemn and somber. "I'm a terrible person."

Daryl still looked as her as if she had two heads. She tried to do some damage control. "It's just your day was _so_ unbelievably terrible – you fell on your own bolt." She shook her head, a small smile creeping back in. "And then boom – Andrea shoots you." Voice genuine, she looked at him, "That just sucks incredibly."

He snorted, much to Bella's obvious relief. "Stop."

Still, he couldn't help but think about Merle's words. _Nothin' but a joke to them, little brother._

Perhaps seeing the change in his eyes, Bella's figure softened. Gently, she said, "I'm sorry. I don't handle worrying well. I'm glad you are okay. Scared the shit out of all of us."

Daryl slowly nodded, studying her to see if there was any sort of mirth or malice in her eyes. But he just saw sympathy and relief.

"I saw my brother out there," he blurted. He didn't know why he said it. Maybe because Bella's never met his shit brother and thus wouldn't judge.

She blinked, eyes wide. " _What?_ "

Feeling even more stupid, he said, "When I got injured out at the creek, I started hallucinatin' Merle. Thought he was standin' there right in front of me."

"Oh," she said softly. Studying his face, she asked, "Do you miss him?"

Daryl considered that. He certainly didn't miss him when fake-Merle started shit talking. But that's what Merle would've done if he was actually there. "It's hard to miss that asshole. I'm used to him dipping out whenever. But it's just the not knowin' of where he is that gets me, ya know?"

She nodded, understanding. Feeling like an even bigger idiot when he realized who he was saying that to – because of course she knows the feeling – he tried to think of something to say.

But Bella spoke first, unaware of his blunder. "Well, if he can take a hit like you can," she said, nodding at his prone body, "then I have no doubt he's still out there."

Bella looked back out toward the window, and Daryl realized with a jolt that it was already dark. The only thing illuminating the room was the small lamp on the nightstand between the two of them.

It was quiet for a bit. Not long at all, but long enough for both of them to feel quite out of touch. The talk between the two ended up being much more intimate than either had expected - or wanted. Both unsure of what to say, Daryl felt a bit of relief when Bella stood up, grabbing his empty plate from the nightstand.

"I'm gonna go check on Carl and then head back." She quickly made her way to the door. She put her hand on the knob, but instead of opening it, she paused and looked back at him. "You won't go out tomorrow, okay?"

Seeing his eyes flicker away from hers, she frowned. "You've done more than enough. Can't lose you, too. Just rest."

Once the door closed with a soft _click_ , Daryl absentmindedly stared at the empty seat.


	14. Secrets

Bella climbed up into the RV, bow slung around her, ready for the new day. Eyes sweeping around the kitchen space for her canteen, she hears the voices of Dale and Glenn in the sitting area.

First, she hears Dale. "- gonna advise you to keep that theory to yourself and not bring it up again."

Curious, Bella practically propelled herself forward, surprising the two men. Grinning at their obvious fright, she raised her eyebrows.

Glenn and Dale both looked at each other. Dale's face carried an obvious warning while Glenn stumbled nervously through his words, "We, uh, are just talking." He nodded, as if encouraging himself. "I'm just having some – uh – girl problems."

At that, Dale and Bella looked incredulously at Glenn. Smile getting bigger on her face, Bella pushed, "What do you mean?"

Glenn exhaled, settling back into his seat. With a grave face signaling how positively confused he was, he simply said, "Maggie."

Dale chuckled and tuts, "Ah, Maggie." Moving forward, he settled on the seat across of Glenn while Bella leaned against the wall of the hallway.

As he spoke, Glenn raised a finger. "First, she starts off being mean to me." He raised a second finger. "Then, she wants to have sex with me." Bella's mouth drops. Dale is now grinning at Glenn, obviously amused by the boy's distraught. Glenn ignores this and continues, "And now she's back to being mean to me again."  
Dale chuckles. "Wait a second. Why do you think she wants to have sex with you?"

At that, Glenn sheepishly smiles at the two of them, eyes twinkling.

Bella starts cackling while Dale looks at Glenn with something akin to horror. Having way too much fun with this, Bella chortles, calling him by the nickname she started using, "Oh, Glenn Coco, you _didn't._ "

Glenn grins and also laughs. However, Dale, the more thoughtful and reasonable of the two, asks seriously, "Did it ever occur to you how Hershel might think of this?"

This shuts the two up. Bella bites her lip while Glenn visibly deflates.

Frowning, Bella steps up. "She's twenty-two. She's certainly old enough that he shouldn't have much of a problem with this."  
Dale shakes his head. "And he is our host. Son, what were you thinking?"

Glenn sighs before sitting up straight. More defensive, he says truthfully, "I was thinking that I might be dead tomorrow."

Dale steps back, surprised by his blunt answer. Sighing, he pats Glenn on the shoulder before walking out of the RV. Bella, with her canteen in hand, playfully nudges Glenn, trying to pick his mood back up.

"You go, Glenn Coco." It works, if only a little. Winking at him, she follows after Dale.

Moving through the group's camp, she spots a now-mobile Carl. Passing him from behind, he doesn't see her as she impishly flicks his sheriff hat forward, causing it to tilt and cover his eyes. Laughing to herself, Bella sends a smile back to his grinning face.

Gathering some food to bring along with her for the day, she sees Carol sitting at the base of a tree, looking out toward the forest. Typically, Carol is always doing something. Whether it be laundry, cleaning, or inventory, she is essential to the group in a way that's different from everybody else. So, seeing her just despondently sitting was enough for some concern. Once Bella placed everything in her pack, she slowly makes her way over. Sitting next to Carol, they sit in silence for a bit, enjoying each other's company and the soft breeze.

Bella shoulders her gently. "What's wrong?"

Everything was wrong. Her daughter goes missing. It's been days and all they found was a doll. They all lost so much, but it had to be something else to bring Carol to this mood.

Carol shakes her head, looking at the ground. "It's nothing."

Bella didn't say anything. She just simply sat there, waiting.

Carol sighed. Looking at Bella, pale blue eyes watery, she said, "I found Daryl out in the stables earlier, trying to saddle up a horse and join the search." Bella's eyes widened. She remembered Daryl's very weakened state. Idiot.

"And I told him," Carol inhaled shakily, "That we didn't know if we'd find Sophia."  
Okay, that hurt. The air felt like it got punched out of her gut. If Carol thinks that this search is futile, then should Bella? Bella simply couldn't accept that – she won't. The only way she'd stop is if they find their bodies. But to hear even Carol lose hope made everything more daunting. It made her feel alone.

"He didn't like that. Started saying these things – yelling at me. And can you blame him? I don't want to give up on them, on my daughter." Carol looked up at Bella again, desperate. "But it's been days, and all we found was my girl's little doll."

Bella sat there in silence, taking in her words. It wasn't until she let in a shaky breath that she realized she was trying not to cry. Squeezing her eyes shut, Bella slowly shook her head. "We can't think like that. We _will_ find them. I can't go on not knowing – not doing everything I can to find them."

Bella slowly got up and headed her way into the forest, already exhausted before the day even started.

* * *

Daryl was probably being stupid. But, to him, it's better than being useless and standing around like a dumb mule back at camp. Trudging his way through the forest, he made sure he had his gun on his waistband. He still carried his crossbow with him, but he conceded that in case his strength fails him, he'd have to have something easier and smaller to use.

Daryl had only been out for an hour or so, having just been able to sneak away from camp before lunch. After that whole damn fiasco at the stables with Carol, he couldn't bear being around anyone else. It frustrated him to no end that the others were out practicing shooting - like a little school fieldtrip. That meant it was only Bella looking out for the girls, and that no one else was taking this thing seriously.

He huffed angrily. He kicked a rock and, to his satisfaction, watched it tumble down toward the creek below.

" _Daryl?"_

He whirled around, recognizing the lilt of Bella's voice. She stood where the tree line was, arrow nocked but held forgotten in her hands. Her focus, it seemed, was to glare daggers at the man across from her.

She marched over. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Daryl was momentarily taken aback. Wearing the same forest green plaid and white tank she wore the first time they met, Daryl felt a bizarre sensation of déjà vu. The only difference in her appearance was that only half of her hair was tied up, leaving the rest to tumble down her back and her loose bangs to frame her face.

Defensive, he said, "What the hell do you think I'm doin' – I'm lookin' for the girls."

Bella scowled at him. "You just got essentially stabbed, and you think you can be any good out here?"

Daryl was not having it. It just seemed that everyone decided to pit against Daryl: Dumbass Nervous Nelly, Merle, Andrea, Carol, and, now, Bella. He was still in a very bad mood after shouting at Carol. And he tried not to think about the guilt blossoming his chest thinking about it. He should shut up. He really should. But, as usual, Daryl can't, and he won't.

Pacing around, like a wounded animal, he shot at her, "What you gettin' mad at me for? I'm here tryin' to fix _your_ mistakes!"

She bristled. Marching up to him, she glared at him, green eyes blazing. " _My_ mistakes? What are you talking about? I didn't push your ass onto that arrow, dumbass."

He stopped and practically started yelling, "I'm here because you couldn't just watch after you girl like you were supposed to. All you had to do was keep an eye on her, you dumb bitch."

The hard sting on his cheek was a little disorienting, especially with his still healing graze wound. So, it took him a while to realize that Bella just slapped him.

When Daryl finally looked down at her, she just stared back defiantly. Face almost blank, the only sign of her fury he could see was her green eyes. They seem to be scorching into his. She was breathing heavily, but otherwise, she didn't say anything.

Wounded, it more ways than one, Daryl muttered, "You're a real piece of work, lady," before stalking off back into the forest.

When he walked away, Daryl briefly contemplated not going back to the farm. He'd never actually leave, but the thought of going back and facing Bella's hatred of him was daunting. The shame stung more than his cheek.

It was a shock, however, when he realized that Bella was following him. She was trailing behind, not even bothering to stifle her strides. Daryl refused to look behind him, not wanting to see the damage that has been done. So, they walked like that for a bit: the two stubbornly not saying a word nor looking at one another.

It wasn't until his heart rate finally calmed down, and the guilt began to fester that he finally spoke, almost an hour later. Slowing his pace down, he glanced at Bella, who was studiously looking forward. She didn't seem to be angry anymore. In fact, she looked rather glum.

"Why you followin' me?"

"To make sure your dumbass doesn't fall over a ravine again," she grumbled.

So, that was that. They didn't speak for a while afterwards. Trailing against the edge of the creek, they looked for signs of the girls in silence, still recovering from their fierce exchange.

But when they reached a rather steep incline, Daryl couldn't make the full trek up, try as he might. Halfway up, while reaching for a rock to hold onto, he suddenly doubled over and let out a low groan. Chest heaving, he tried to breathe to prevent the black spots in his vision from taking over. He barely noticed Bella moving to his side to wrap an arm around his back. Moving his arm around her shoulders, she began to slowly maneuver the two back down the incline. By the time they made it back down and Bella sat him down, Daryl had recovered the breath in his lungs. Pain subsiding, he sagged his shoulders and relented. "I'll head back to the farm on my own."  
"You sure you can make it on your own from here?" Looking up, he saw with a jolt that she was trying not to smile. More like trying not to laugh at him.

Daryl sighed, leaning back against a rock. "Yeah. Just strained my side up there is all. Walking back shouldn't be a problem."

They sat for a bit till Daryl could revive his strength. They listened to the rushing stream and birds chirping. In the breeze and under the trees' shadows, the effect was soothing. The two were no longer seething at each other, and neither seemed to want to address their argument from earlier. In fact, it felt like another morning in the woods, when they would just enjoy nature and each other's silent presence.

Finally, Daryl began to stand up. Bella jumped up and hovered a distance away, waiting in case he falls. When he stood, the two stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"I'm not sorry about slapping you," Bella blurted. She reached up to tuck her loose strands behind her ear.

Daryl grimaced, rubbing his cheek. "I deserved it." He sighed. "I'm sorry 'bout what I said earlier."

She shrugged, looking away. "You wanted to look for her." She crossed her arms and began rocking back on her heels. She tilted her head, and Daryl anxiously waited for her to say what was on her mind.

"Why," she asked. She blinked. "Why?"

She didn't elaborate, but she didn't have to. Daryl stared out over to the stream. "'Cause I know they still out there." He nodded at a bush that contained a blooming Cherokee rose. "We'll find them." He shifted, pausing. "Truth is, what else have I got to do?"

Bella looked up at him, surprised. Daryl could feel her curiously looking at him, but he refused to meet her gaze, scared of her judgement.

He cleared his throat. "I best head back and leave you be." Turning, he headed toward the farm's direction.

"Hey," she called out. Daryl stopped. Bracing himself, he turned around to see Bella shifting to her other leg. "I'm sorry."

Daryl raised his eyebrow. "You don't gotta be. I deserved it."  
She shook her head. "Not about that." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry no one looked for your brother the way you are looking for my daughter."

Daryl swallowed. Not trusting himself to speak, he simply nodded before ducking into the protective cover of the forest.

He slowly made his way back to the farm, vaguely aware of his surroundings. Daryl barely feels his cheek throbbing anymore, but he can't stop thinking about today's strange encounter.

He shook his head. Too many things happened today.

Stomping over a fallen log, he hears a rustle. Instinctively, he swings around his crossbow and shoots his bolt toward the offending squirrel.

When Daryl makes it back, he'll apologize to Carol. It doesn't sit right by him offending two women in one day like a jackass. He remembers Bella's slap and feels a bit comforted by the fact he got what he deserved.

As he reaches for his bolt that is embedded in the squirrel's torso and the trunk, his hand falters.

Daryl staggers back, blinking like an idiot. His eyes widen, and they begin to scan the other trees around them.

Because there, underneath the dangling body of the squirrel's, was a slash carved onto the trunk of the Georgian pine tree.

* * *

With a sigh, Bella plopped down on a rock that sat in the middle of the creek. Water rushed past it, giving way to the stone that stubbornly refused to yield to the current. The top was dry – untouched by water, allowing her to comfortably sit upon it.

Looking down at the rushing stream, Bella absentmindedly pulled out her necklace and began to play with it. One of the few nice things she's ever owned, its silver chain sparkled in the sunlight. It was a very simple piece. It had only a small diamond shaped like a teardrop, hardly bigger than her pinky nail.

She remembered seeing Darlene wearing it all the time. Whenever she saw her, Bella always expected to see it around her neck. At the time, she hardly had anything to call her own, so Bella constantly looked out to see Darlene's simple charm. It wasn't long before Darlene began to notice. Sometimes she'd even let Bella wear it for nice occasions. It stole her breath away, how somebody would just trust this troubled, fourteen-year-old to hold on to such a valuable thing.

It was only when Darlene began to feel tired and winded, not long after her husband's death, that she told Bella about its history. Bella didn't have any family history to speak of, so it was the equivalent of a fairytale story. Darlene's family in the 1800s had lived on a plantation farm under the enslavement of a family. It was a good family – something rare and fortunate. Darlene's grandmother had fallen in love with the son, and both decided to run away to the North long before civil unrest began to happen.

With nothing but the clothing on their backs, all the man could give Darlene's grandmother was a necklace that used to belong to his mother. It was handed down from daughter to daughter till it finally came to Darlene. When Darlene passed away, Bella never thought about it again, assuming that it went to her own daughter and later to June.

But when she adopted June, the family ranch ended up being passed down to Bella. Years later, when June was only eight, they rummaged through Darlene's old antique boxes where they found the necklace. Bella refused to touch it, and instead told June about its story and wonderful owner. At a time when June had just begun to warm up to Bella and their new relationship, June had insisted that Bella should have it.

It took a while for her to concede to that. It made Bella feel like an imposter to carry it. While they treated her like their own child, June's mother was clear Bella was not part of their family. So, the necklace brought a lot of questions and guilt. But she'd think about all the nights eating dinner with them, Joshua teaching her how to shoot, and all the days she had genuinely felt _happy_. So, she has never taken it off since the moment she put it on.

Now, however, it just made Bella think about June. It made her face the harsh reality – what if they never find her? As soon as the question came up, Bella shut her eyes. Listening to the rushing sound of the water, she began tapping her fingers along with it, creating a rhythm only she could hear.

It hurt. Thinking about June's mischievous grin and all the nights they would lay awake watching those stupid cartoons. About when June threw Bella her first birthday party and encouraged her to quit her meaningless jobs to pursue her dream. June made her who she is now, but without her little girl, she didn't know who that person will be.

Bella refused to cry. She wouldn't – not until she knew. She hasn't cried since June left – _went missing_. And she won't start now.

Looking up at the fading sky, Bella chastised herself for spending all this time moping. She's still got shit to do. Hoping off of her rock, and yes, it's _her_ rock, she waded her way toward the riverside.

Bella slowly began making her way down the creek, half-heartedly searching. She thought of how she was going to have to walk back to camp empty-handed _again_. She'll have to look at Carol, knowing that there's nothing she can say to make her feel better, to feel less alone.

Hearing a faint rustle, Bella whirled around, bow up.

Seeing Daryl _again_ , she swore she going to beat his ass to a pulp. She actually began stomping toward him, raising her bow up like a bat. Preparing herself to give a long speech about how many times she was going to have to pummel him in order to _help_ him, she inhaled sharply - only for her to start choking, eyes widening in shock.

June was covered in dirt, mud, and gore. Looking like she hadn't had a good sleep in days, her bleary eyes blinked up at Bella. It could've been just because of the tears that were forming in her doe brown eyes. Or maybe from the tears in Bella's eyes. Whatever it was, it soon didn't matter because in a split second, Bella had shoved past Daryl, lunging forward like a madwoman, grabbing June without any sort of preamble, and pulling them both to the ground.

For the first time in days, Bella began to cry. It was quite frightening to see. Tears ran down her face as she hysterically tried forming a coherent sentence. It was hard to speak when the air in her chest seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a gasping, blubbering mess. So, giving up, she burrowed her face into June's bushy, wild hair that seemed to have become a little ecosystem, with all of the little leaves and twigs that had gotten tangled up in her beautiful, curly strands.

June had also seemed to have lost all attempt at retaining some sort of control. Doing that weird, little hiccup June did every time she cried when she was little, it spurred Bella into blubbering even more.

Her heart was pounding fast, so Bella focused on taking slow, deep breaths to calm herself down. June was still clinging on to her, so Bella began patting her on the back, trying to gain back the control she just cried out. One arm still around June, she raised her other arm to wipe the snot and tears off of her face when Daryl hesitatingly stepped up to offer a rag from the back pocket.

She blinked at him, eyes blurred, as if just realizing he was there. Only able to make out his steel blue eyes, it was then Bella realized what exactly he has done for her and her daughter. He found her, just like he said he would.

Ignoring the rag, she wrapped her slim hand around his, squeezing, in a meager attempt to convey her thanks. Daryl looked back, surprised by her touch. Looking down at her bloodshot eyes and runny nose, he found himself lost for words. Instead, he squeezed back lightly before letting go, leaving his rag in her hands.

It took the two a bit to compose themselves. Once they did, Bella hoisted the two of them back on their feet. Taking a small step back, her eyes roved June's form, checking for any signs of harm or injury. Seeing only the need for June to take a much-deserved shower, Bella stepped forward to envelope June in another bone crushing hug, letting out a shaky, "How?"

Daryl, who was leaning against a tree, eyes scanning in case any walker decided to make an unseemly appearance, spoke, voice gruff. "On the way back to the farm, I found a slash on a tree and followed it back to a cabin a bit aways from here. It seems small enough that it wouldn't appear on the map."

Bella tugged an obviously exhausted June to sit on a rock, shoving her canteen in her hands. "June," Bella said gently, still sniffling a bit. "What happened out there?"

Leaning her head against Bella's shoulder, June looked at the ground. This wasn't the vibrant young girl that always seemed to have been smiling. "After Rick left, we started to head back to the highway. But along the way, more walkers showed up - more than last time. Sophia and I got split up. I killed the walkers by climbing a tree and using my knife. Then, I tried looking for her, but I got lost along the way." She shuddered. "I tried finding her – I really did." June burst into tears again, throwing herself into her mother's arms.

Bella and Daryl exchanged concerned looks. Pursing her lips and furrowing her eyebrows, Bella held onto June. They found June – thank god – but it seems Sophia had just disappeared. If the two girls have been separated since day one, it elevated the stakes. They only had her abandoned doll to go off of.

"June," Daryl spoke softly. "Were ya hidin' out in a closet of a farmhouse at one point? Ate a can of sardines?"

June shook her head, sniffling. Bella used Daryl's rag to wipe June's face. Gently lifting the canteen to June's mouth, she encouraged June to take a couple sips.

Once June began to recover her breathing, Bella gently helped her to her feet and, with the help of Daryl, slowly began making their way back to the farm.


	15. The Long Run

**AN:** **I debated not posting this chapter because it just seems very out of place to me. Probably because it's a happy chapter? But I decided screw it - I'll just post another chapter with it. So two chapters in one day yay!**

* * *

Rick, Shane, Bella, and Daryl stood in the hallway. Speaking in hushed tones, the four of them battled to gain the upper ground in the argument. Well, at least three battled against Shane.

"We found June," Shane snarled. "We haven't found any signs of Sophia besides a _doll_. What're the chances she's actually still out there if even June hasn't seen her?"

"If we followed through with what ya wanted to begin with, we would've stopped lookin' long before we found June," shot Daryl. He was doing that huffing, pacing thing again, noted Bella.

Bella anxiously looked back at the closed bedroom door. June had just fallen asleep after taking advantage of the bathroom and eating the first real meal she's had in days.

"Her doll ended up miles away from the highway," insisted Bella. "That has to mean something."

Rick nodded in agreement. Turning to Shane, he spoke in a controlled tone, hoping to reason with the man. "Look, if this was _Carl_ , there would not be one second we weren't out there looking. We'd never stop, so why should we for Sophia?"

Shane looked at Rick incredulously. " _I_ wouldn't have allowed Carl to be put in harm's way in the first place. Not for a second."

The group stilled, hearing Shane's implication. Rick stared intently at Shane, pale blue eyes unblinking. He stared him down until Shane broke, looking back at the ground. Shane scratched his head and took a deep breath. "Look, I'm just saying there needs to be a time when we end this. For Carl, June, the whole group. Can't be chasing ghosts." At that, he walked away.

* * *

Bella stood in the living room, eyes curiously scanning the personal and unique knick-knacks that tend to span every family's household. The smell of spices and cooked meat wafted towards her, as well as the clanking and scattered conversations that often came with the activity of cooking.

Carol and Lori had decided to take this opportunity to prepare the group's first kitchen-cooked meal since being together. It acted as a celebration of June's return and a thank you to their hosts. The two quickly realized that Bella had no idea what fine cooking inquired, and thus allowed her to wander freely. It was also probably to give Carol some space, which is probably the only thing Bella could do for her.

Carol had been happy and relieved to see June back safe and sound. But, it wouldn't have been easy to see another mother reunited with her lost daughter, while her own still out there, alone. Whether to take hope or discouragement from June's return was a hard choice indeed. Ever since the three of them entered the farm, Bella had refrained from throwing herself all over June, especially in front of Carol. Bella had no idea how Carol was really taking it, and she wouldn't blame her in the slightest if Carol held any negative thoughts.

While Bella was scanning the stacks of piano books that rested along the bookshelf, hand skimming against their spines, Carl suddenly pops up. Looking as good as he did before he got shot, there was no way to tell that the boy was still recovering. He had just come down from visiting June, who had woken up an hour ago.

"June is going to head down soon," Carl said. Looking at her disapproving expression, he quickly said, "She really wants to join everyone for dinner, and she doesn't have any injuries or anything."  
Bella considered this. Besides lacking in rest and some weight, Hershel had deemed June to be sound in body. June had managed to stay by the creek, providing a source of water. She lived off scavenging cabins and gathering berries and plants to eat, using what Bella had taught her. So, all in all, she was healthy.

The only thing that concerned Bella was June's state of mind. It was too soon to tell how being lost and alone for days would affect June. It was also understandable if it takes her a while to heal and recover from the ordeal. And that scared Bella. She didn't want her daughter to lose a part of her out of fear and necessity.

Bella nodded, giving Carl a small smile. He still wore the slightly too-big of a hat proudly, looking like a mini-Rick. Hesitating, she asked, "Did she seem okay?"

Carl slowly nodded, with a charming half-smile. "She was a bit quiet. But she smiled and laughed a few times." He shrugged. "I think she'll be okay in the long run."

Bella sighed, the relief palpable. Lowering her hand from the music books, she cast one brief look at the piano before nudging him on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let's help set the tables."

Dinner was a rather lovely affair. Bella was quite tense for most of it, anxiously waiting for someone to slip up and cause June to shut down. She watched her daughter intently out of the corner of her eye. She knew she was hovering, and she was sure everyone else knew that too. But, hell, if Bella wanted to be a tiger mom, she was sure gonna do whatever the hell she wants.

In contrast to Bella's obvious anxiety, June showed little signs of carrying any weight from her ordeal. Bags still hung under her eyes, and she did yawn periodically. She didn't say much in the beginning, but slowly she started to participate in almost every conversation. It wasn't long before June seemed to put little effort in telling stories and enchanting her listeners – as usual.

For the first time in days, this dinner provided the opportunity for the group to unwind and enjoy themselves. Wine had been served, and everyone was, for the most part, in high spirits. During a lull in the conversation, Carl, who sat across the table a couple seats down spoke up. Grinning, he called out Bella's name.

Squinting suspiciously at the little boy, who didn't seem to try to hide his smug smile in the slightest, Bella gave out a slow and wary, "What?" Her lips were quirked up at the corner, but she refused to show weakness.

Everyone became interested when Carl declared with a surety that was certainly admirable, "I know what you were before."

Bella wrinkled her nose. "Carl, forgive me. But I do not believe you."  
Everyone laughed at this. But Carl was unfazed, his grin never dropping. Bella shifted. "Okay, little man. You're making me uncomfortable – spit it out."  
Carl linked his fingers together and rested his elbows on the table. Leaning forward with his sheriff hat proudly displayed, he said with a dramatic finality, "a musician."  
Everyone inwardly snorted or visibly grinned, thinking his defeat was imminent. Daryl, however, settled back in surprise as it all clicked.

When Bella's eyes widened comically, and her lips pressed tightly to form a flat line, everyone realized that she wasn't arguing. Gaping, Glenn just says, "No way."

Bella's fingers tapped nervously on the table, something Daryl's eyes zoned in. Another piece fell into place. Ignoring everyone's incredulous face, she swung her attention to the little girl next to her.

June raised her arms in defense. "Nope. Wasn't me."  
Everyone exclaimed, slightly buzzed from the alcohol or just the overall festive mood. Ignoring the questions thrown at her way, she just looked suspiciously at Carl while trying to stifle a smile creeping on her face. "How'd you guess?"

"You like music – a lot. Every time I'm in the car with you, the only thing you really talk about is the song's band, their history, its composition. You go _on and on_ ," He sighed dramatically. "And you sometimes sing along. Also, before we set up dinner, I saw you eyeing the piano and guitar out there." He shrugged. "It just made sense, in the end."  
Daryl spoke out. Maybe buzzed from drinking or who the hell knows. "Ya tap your fingers a lot." Her and everyone else zoned in on him. She cocked her head, confused. "With a rhythm - like you're playin' the piano. Ya did it even back when we first met you."

Bella released the air in her system with a long exhale. She took a long drink of water – she and Hershel were the only adult who refused the wine – before simply saying, "Damn."

Rick smiled, shaking his head. "I just cannot see you sitting at the piano for your day job."

June cut in. "Bella's a multi-" she paused momentarily confused. "What are you again?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "A multi-instrumentalist. I can play more than the piano."  
Dale's smiling at the two. "Well, what do you play?"

"Mostly string instruments. I spent more time teaching myself the piano than I did doing homework. Once I learned that, I moved on. Now, I can also play the guitar, violin, drums, and cello."

"But what was your _day job_?" asked Carl, eyes lit with curiosity.

"For a couple years, I didn't really have a career. I just did odds and ends and took on multiple jobs at a time: Taught music classes. Worked at a hardware store. I bartended for a couple of years. Anything and everything. But bartending was how I started working with music – I would perform live after shifts. It was how I got my 'big break,'" Bella said, using air quotations.

" _Well_?" Glenn asked, grinning.

Bella groaned. "I don't know why, but it feels so weird and inconsequential to say after everything has happened." She sighed dramatically, and with great reluctance revealed, "I performed in theatre."  
Everyone gasped. Daryl looked at her, trying to imagine her dressed up as some green witch or some other ridiculous costume while singing out kid songs.

Bella caught his look. Groaning, she said, "Don't look at me like that. It was a pretty damn good one, if I say so myself."

June nodded, a small smile beginning to take place. "She starred in _Hadestown_."  
Andrea spluttered, her wine glass placed on the table, forgotten. "Holy shit. Amy and I heard of that!"

Daryl had never heard of that before. But he never particularly had any chance to go to plays or frolic in the park either.

Andrea continued. "It came out for the first time recently. Apparently, it wasn't meant to be a huge thing, but everyone loved it and it got extremely popular."

Looking at everybody elses confused looks, Bella explained, "It's a musical adaptation of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. It takes a modern approach to the story, and has a very southern, folk opera vibe to it."

Carl asked, "Who's Orpheus and Eurydice."  
Lori straightened his hat. "It's a tale about how Orpheus' new wife, Eurydice, dies early in their marriage. So, he goes down to the Underworld and sings to Hades so beautifully that he manages to convince this god to let Eurydice join Orpheus in the living world, as long as Orpheus doesn't look back during their trek back up to the surface. But, in the end, Orpheus looks back, and Eurydice joins Hades."  
Bella continued. "The play takes place during an industrial revolution setting. Eurydice and Orpheus are poor, and Eurydice, after being so hungry for so long with Orpheus failing to provide for her, decides to join a labor force in 'Hadestown,' where you basically exchange security and food for freedom. It's a story about poverty and love. It was a pretty serious and intimate play."

Glenn, eyes wide, asked, "Who did you play?"

Grinning, Bella dramatically flipped her hair. "Who do you think?"

June, with an equal amount of drama, pressed her hands to the dinner table, and sang, "Oh, Eurydice!"

Glenn spoke, straight-faced. "Oh my god. I never met a famous person before. Can I have your autograph?"

Bella flung her piece of bread, hitting him right in the center of his forehead.

Carl kept badgering Bella with questions, much to Daryl's amusement. While it was clear she had enough about this topic, Bella answered reluctantly and honestly. Long after dinner ended, everyone had settled in the living room for a rare moment of respite. Everyone but Shane, who had moodily not said a word all dinner. Making some excuse about needing to keep watch, he stomped away. For a while no one spoke until Carl asked something that had been on everyone's mind. "Can we hear you play?"

Bella grimaced, face turning red. "I'd rather not."  
June jumped in. "Oh, come on. You haven't played in forever, and I know it's been killing you. All you do at night is compose songs in your book."  
Bella groaned and lightly shoved her daughter's shoulders. "Can you not divulge all my secrets? Aren't you on my side?"

" _Please_ ," June said in a low, drawn out voice. Bella ignored her. June began jabbing her on the side. "It'll make me feel better. Please. Please. Please. PL-"

"Cut it out," grumbled Bella. She looked at everyone else for backup. Daryl just raised an eyebrow in response.

Bella bit her lip. She sat on the floor in front of the piano seat next to June and Carl. Everyone else lounged around the room, sitting on the couch or floor or whatever seat they could find. Daryl was sitting against the wall on the floor, one leg bent to his chest with his arm resting on top of his knee. He watched Bella as she had an internal war with herself.

"Fine." She looked at June and muttered in defeat. "Pick a song."  
June got up and practically skipped to the guitar. The fatigue from before seemed to have evaporated. Handing it to Bella, she whispered something in her ear.

Green eyes sparkling in the dim light, her hands lightly brushed over the guitar. Experimentally, she played a few cords, fingers skillfully strumming as she tested it for its tune.

When the first notes resonated through the room, Bella smiled softly. It was a small one with only one corner quirked up. But the gentle and caring way she played the guitar spoke volumes.

She took a deep breath. Giving a long and exasperated look to June, she began to strum the guitar.

A melody formed – something that reminded Daryl of riding on his bike during a hot day, feeling the dry wind gusting pass him.

 _Babe, there's something tragic about you  
Something so magic about you  
Don't you agree?_

Nothing could prepare any of them from hearing her voice. Usually soft-spoken if not just quiet, the group rarely heard the power and resonance that was Bella's voice. Bold and inexplicably _bright_ , her melodic voice shook Daryl to his core.

 _Babe, there's something lonesome about you  
Something so wholesome about you  
Get closer to me_

While singing, Bella mainly looked at June or the floor. Too awkward to gaze around the room, her slightly pink face avoided eye contact. If she looked up, she would've seen smiles and people who were, in short, enjoying themselves.

 _No tired sigh, no rolling eyes, no irony  
No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me_

Daryl listened to the words. And couldn't help but think how much it just _sounds_ like her. Her defiance, her subtle sarcasm, and her quiet way of speaking in volume.

 _Honey you're familiar like my needle years ago  
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on it's sword  
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know  
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door_

* * *

 **AN: Apologies if this chapter seems have ended in a random way. It's a way to show some happy kind of scenes we rarely see in the show. It also helps us learn more about Bella as a person rather than a survivor. Music is rarely ever vital for a zombie apocalypse, so here's our chance to hear her.**

 **If you want to hear what I imagine Bella sounds like when she sings:**

 **-** **A year ago after taking a classical mythology class, I got obsessed with the play Hadestown, which is a legit play you should familiarize yourself with mwahaha. I recommend listening to Eurydice's part in the song "Hey Little Songbird" (which is sung between Hades and Eurydice – Hades voice reminds me of Negan for some reason).**

 **-** **I imagine Bella singing "From Eden" (which is actually by Hozier) exactly like Jessica Smith's cover of the song which you can find on Youtube.**

 **-** **And, FINALLY, my MAIN inspo for her voice is Renee Dominique, who also posts covers on youtube. She sounds like an angel and is what I would say is what Bella's singing sounds like.**

 **Very curious to know what you think – especially about the song choices!**


	16. Pretty Much Dead Already

When June began to stir, Bella had already dressed into a baggy, dark green button-up with its sleeves rolled up to her elbow. She'd tucked it into her black jeans. Putting on her arm guard and gloves, she vaguely noticed the pale imprint on her tanned arm, an aftermath of wearing them every day in the sun.

June yawned, and her eyes blearily met Bella's – until they squeezed shut once more after another particularly strong yawn overtook her. "G'morning," she mumbled, before sitting up. One side of her puffy hair had a rather comical dent.

Bella snorted and reached over to pat June's hair down. "You don't have to wake up. You should rest some more."  
June shrugged. "I'm okay. I slept so much yesterday. Besides, how can I go to sleep smelling _that_." She sniffed eagerly at the scent of breakfast wafting in through the tent. "I'm ready to eat."

Bella smiled but was all the while studying June's face, much like the night before. Her fingers tapped soundlessly on her thigh. Picking up on her mother's worry, June frowned. "You okay?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "You were alone in the forest for days, and you're asking if _I'm_ okay?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm just concerned. You haven't said much about it, and – I don't know – you seem almost _too_ okay."

June, eyebrows furrowed, began to pick at her blanket. Pondering on how to best respond, she took a while to gather thoughts. "I guess it's because I was okay out there." Catching her mother's incredulous look, June continued. "I was scared of being lost, but I wasn't scared about dying or surviving. Being in the forest wasn't the scary part – that was familiar. All in all, I survived. I remembered what you taught me. And, to be honest, I'm more proud than scared about that more than anything."  
She took a deep breath. Bella stared out her daughter with something akin to both amazement than anything. She forgot how young June was sometimes. The way the two speak is always a weird mix of mother-and-daughter and sisters. It was a different relationship, but it was their's. And it allowed them to be uniquely open in a way such that Bella often considers June old enough to decide and speak for her own. Although only thirteen, June often speaks as if she was an adult.

Continuing, June said, "The only thing I was afraid of was not seeing you again. You and anyone in the group." She shook her head, blinking fast. " _That_ was what scared me."  
Bella put her hand on June's shoulders and looked at her in the eyes, her own green eyes steady and serious. "I don't have to, you know – Not see you. I don't have to go off from you all the time to do things for the group, like searching today."

June shook her head. "I don't want to be apart from you. But I get that you have to go out sometimes. Just like in the water tower, you'd go scavenge or hunt. It's just like that. Because this group, even though we just met, matters. And soon, you are going to care for them like you care for me."  
Bella raised her eyes at that. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's been a pretty tense couple of days. Lots of disagreement."

"But there's some good things," June insisted. "Like last night." Seeing Bella's unconvinced expression, June continued. "Carl, Rick, Carol, Glenn. Daryl."

Bella softened as June said their names. "Alright, alright," Bella sighed dramatically. "I get it."

The two looked through the mesh of their tent, where they could see the others' silhouettes bustling around in the morning.

"Are you sure you don't mind me leaving?" Bella cocked her head. "Or are you already sick of me?"

June threw a pillow at Bella. After smacking her affronted face soundly, June said, "Yes. Just don't be dumb out there."

The two left the tent together and headed toward the makeshift firepit that everyone was sitting around of. June went straight to Carol, where she proceeded to help the mother serve breakfast for everyone. June didn't have to say it, but Bella knew she harbored some sort of guilt over Sophia. Whether it be survivor's guilt, or guilt over being separated from Sophia, June had apparently decided to become Carol's little shadow.

Sitting next to the closest available spot, which happened to be between T-Dog and Dale, Bella swung around her dark, wavy hair to one shoulder, moving it out of the way. She had given her hairband to June, who was in a much more desperate need of it than she did. This means she'd have to wear her hair down for a while, at least until she manages to scavenge one.

Taking in the camp, she noticed Rick and his family sitting together. Lori and he looked less strained than they did the day before, if the way Lori was stroking Rick's hair had anything to say about it. Shane seemed just as temperamental as yesterday. He stood against a tree behind Rick and Lori, watching them intensely. Making eye contact with Daryl, he gave a small nod in greeting – which was more than most received. Andrea sat on a log, the sound of her sharpening her knife was the only thing that filled the campsite. Glenn stood anxiously in front of her. Watching him curiously, Bella saw him look toward the farmhouse. Shifting nervously and eyes flitting off to what Bella believed was the barn, Glenn clearly had something going on.

Deciding it was none of her business, Bella raised her fork of eggs to her mouth.

"Hey guys," Glenn said loudly, projecting to the whole group. Bella didn't even look up, relishing the taste of Carol's cooking and shoveling more in her mouth. "There's walkers in the barn – a lot of them."  
Bella choked, which was embarrassingly the only sound and movement that came from any one. She vaguely noticed that Andrea had frozen, the sound of her knife abruptly stopping. Hardly anyone looked her way, which was a bit offensive, but it, Bella acquiesced, was completely understandable considering the bomb Glenn had just dropped.  
Bella swallowed the food in her mouth as Shane spoke, voice harsh and cold as steel. " _What?"_

Without a word, Rick rose and began striding his way past Glenn toward the barn. Everyone scrambled after him. Bella regretfully sat down her plate before immediately making her way to June.

The barn looked rather unsuspecting in appearance – but, Bella guesses, they all do. It clearly had seen better days, if the rickety wooden pieces that it was made up of had anything to show. The top part of the barn had shingles missing. And on the two front doors were chains, locks, and boards of wood which were all meant to keep something in.

When the group approached, no one spoke or made any hint of noise. Gradually, moaning and growling began to emit from the barn. Shane strode forward and began to look in between the wood panels. Just then, the unmistakable snarl and thud of a walker hitting against the wall made its way.

Shane huffed and stormed to Rick. "You _cannot_ be okay with this."  
Rick shook his head with a hand on his hip. "I'm not," snarled Rick. "But we are guests here. This isn't our land or our say."

Andrea butted in. "We can't just sweep this under the rug."

Shane started pacing in front of the group and the walkers. "We either are gonna have to take it with them," he said derisively, pointing at the farmhouse. "Or we do it ourselves. This place isn't safe anymore. Fort Benning-"

Rick shut it down almost immediately. "We cannot go to Fort Benning. We cannot leave."

Shane made an ill attempt to calm down. Breathing deeply through his nose. "And why is that?"

Carol stepped up defensively. "Because my _daughter_ is still out there."

Shane scoffed. "We should just take the moment to consider what if she isn't."

Bella argued back, eyes widening. "What're you talking about? We found just found June, long after _you_ wanted to give up. Why should we give up on Sophia?"

Daryl strode up next to Bella. "We are close to findin' this girl. I found her doll not two days ago."

Shane straight up laughed. "You found a damn doll. That's it."

Daryl stormed up to his face, blue eyes flashing dangerously. "You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about."

Rick tried intercepting the two of them. The way they were constantly stalking and pacing around reminded Bella of two incensed animals. but Shane began yelling back. "Let me tell you somethin' else man. If you redneck came through the woods wearin' your geek ears with your buck knife, she'd run the other direction."

At that, Daryl lunged at Shane, who was eager enough to meet him in the middle. Soon, Rick and Bella were in the middle of it, trying to push them apart. Bella managed to give a forceful enough push on Daryl's chest to allow her to stand in front of him. Vaguely recognizing Rick behind her, Bella put her forearm on Daryl's chest, bracing herself against the ground to not be pushed back by Daryl. Once Daryl recognized her between the two, he practically growled. Grunting, he fell back before trying to move to the side in an attempt to circumvent her, eyes never leaving Shane's. As if she was handling a preying lion, she followed his movements, preventing him from getting any closer.

Finally, Shane broke off and began to storm away, but, to Bella's exasperation, spun on his heels after Rick called out, "I have to talk to Hershel about it. This is his land. His rules. Only way we can clear this barn out is if he lets us."

Dale cut in before Shane could start another yelling match. "Hershel sees those things in there," he said, pointing at the barn, "as people. His wife. His stepson."

Shane shook his head incredulously before shouting, "Hell, no. If he sees those things as people, he is just as sick."  
It was then, that the walkers in the barn begin to angrily shove against the barn doors, effectively shutting the group up.

* * *

Thank god. That was all Bella could think of once she entered the forest. This morning had been too much. After ensuring Daryl would just _stay put_ , she made her way to continue the search for Sophia. To get away from everybody, specifically Shane, was a blessing. While she did share the urge to punch Shane in the face, Bella knew it wasn't going to make any matters better. The fragile balance amongst the group was tenuous; a fight between the two men could be enough to break it.

But it was almost daunting to continue the search after finding June. Where else can Sophia be? It's beginning to feel like they were running out of options. That didn't mean she wanted to give up, or that she would. She defended Sophia earlier today against Shane, and she would continue doing so. It's just that the longer this goes on, the more it feels, she admits, like she's chasing a ghost.

Seeing something on the ground, besides the creek, Bella bent down. Reaching out to pick up a jagged piece of rock, she lightly thumbed it. Looking like it was made out of condensed fog, the natural stone was opaque with a pale purple and white tint to it. Scanning the creek, she assumed it probably had been unearthed from the stream. Satisfied, Bella pocketed it to add to her collection.

An hour or so after searching, she decided to circle back once she reached familiar ground. Once back at the farm, she would pick another section to search. But at some point, she began to hear voices – familiar ones.

Crouching, Bella looked past a tree and spotted Dale and Shane. Standing where the excess water from the stream would reach their end at a little pond, the two stood with a couple of feet in between them – only one of the signs of their tense meeting. Dale was opening up a garbage bag with two bags of guns – _her_ bag of guns – at his feet.

Bella's eyebrows furrowed. Staying low to the ground, she moved her way forward till she could hear them better.

"I'm not going to do that," said Dale. Shane's back was facing her. Remaining unnoticed, Bella took in Dale's defensive stance. She'd rarely ever seen him so on edge.

Shane stood tall and proud, using his build and height for intimidation. "Yeah, you will, Dale." He paused. "Well, you do have that rifle over your shoulder."

"What? You're going to shoot me like you did Otis?" Dale shot back.

Bella's green eyes widened comically wide as her mouth dropped. What the fuck? Her hand tightened on her bow. Slowly, she reached up to grab an arrow from her quiver nocked it in her bow. Eyes zoned on Shane's form, she prepared herself for any signs of tensing or sudden movement.

Shane chuckled, unnerving both Bella and Dale. "Nah, man. If you look at it, in the cold light of day, you're pretty much dead already." He shifted. Bella tensed. "Give me the guns. Now."

Dale tried to reason with Shane. Hands still protectively on the bag, he said, "Rick is trying to reason with Hershel-"

"Dale, shut up. Guns. Now."

Dale, looking older than she's ever seen him, let out a heavy sigh. He slowly dropped the bags of guns to the ground before reaching behind him to remove the rifle slung around his shoulder. To Bella's surprise, and fear, Dale didn't drop it. He cocked and aimed it toward Shane. Voice somber, he said, "Am I going to have to kill you? Is that what it would take?"

Shane chuckled in disbelief before letting out a sigh, as if saying "What an inconvenience." He slowly stalked forward toward Dale and his rifle.

Bella didn't know if she could shoot Shane. Bella's fingers pulled back the string ever so slightly. Okay, she lied. She could. And she would. With Dale's life on the line, she prepared to kill a man.

 _Soon, you are going to care for them like you care for each other._

But she pleaded Shane wouldn't do anything rash. That he wouldn't actually put Dale in harm's way. But the closer he got to Dale, the higher Bella raised her bow.

Shane said something so low, that Bella couldn't make it out. But studying his posture, there wasn't anything to signal an oncoming attack. Dale lowered the gun. Bella let out the breath she was holding. The defeat in his voice was evident. "This is where you belong Shane. This world – it's where you belong."

Dale bent down to pick up the bags of guns and shoved it against Shane's chest with an aggression Bella had never seen of him. "I may not have what it takes to last long in this world," he said, looking fearlessly up at Shane. "And that's okay. Because at least when the world went to shit, I didn't let the world drag me down with it."

Shane looked at him straight in the eyes. "Fair enough." At that, he walked calmly away with the bags of guns, leaving behind a grave Dale.

Once Shane left, Bella slowly stood up and made her way to Dale. Just noticing her, Dale started, his bushy eyebrows shooting up. Looking positively flabbergasted, he just said, "Bella?"

Uneasily looking toward Shane's direction, Bella didn't beat around the bush. "I heard you guys talking. What did you mean about Otis?"

Dale hesitated briefly before recounting his suspicions surrounding Otis's death. Maybe, before this, Bella would've given Shane the benefit of the doubt. But after hearing Shane all but confirm it, she grimly accepted it.

"Why haven't you told Rick about it?"

Dale sighed, looking at the ground. Scratching his chin, he said, "Rick and Shane have been at odds for a while, if you haven't noticed." Bella snorted. "I'm afraid-" Dale hesitated.

"You're afraid he's going to try to attack Rick?" Bella asked, eyes wide. She didn't even wait for a confirmation. "You really think he's capable of that?"

Dale nodded solemnly. "I saw Shane raise his rifle toward Rick when he wasn't looking. He didn't do it, but he contemplated. I know it. And, if I tell the others, chaos would happen. It would split the group up even more – maybe for good."

Before Bella could respond, Dale anxiously looked at her. "You need to go back. I don't know what Shane plans on doing, but you need to be there for whatever happens."  
Bella frowned, slinging her bow back around her torso. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yes, but I'll only hold you back. The farm isn't far – I'll be fine."  
Bella nodded, and tense for what was to come, began to quickly make her way back to the farm.

* * *

Just when Bella reached the farm's fences, the sharp, booming sounds of gunshots began to echo over the hills. Sprinting, she ran toward the barn, already knowing where the point of conflict would be.

To her relief, Shane wasn't gunning down Rick or anybody else. But to her horror, walkers were spewing out of the doors. Hershel and his family stood petrified as they watched the shells of their family members being shot down by members of her own group.  
June was holding onto Carol at a distance away from the shooting line. When she saw Bella, June ran to her open arms. One by one, walkers fell to the ground. Exhausted and feeling strangely distant, she simply watched as Rick desperately screamed at the group to stop. But how can they? With walkers coming out of the barn? It was too late for that.

Something in her prevented her from joining the shooting squad. Maybe it was the obvious pain and horror that shown on the faces of Hershel's family. All of their hopes were shot down with the walkers. To them, they were watching their family die before their eyes.

Finally, the stream of walkers stemmed to a stop. Everyone stood in silence, recovering from the ordeal and loud gunshots. Dale had joined the group, shock evident on his face. The only movement came from Beth, who was sobbing in grief.

But another sound floated from the barn. The familiar and terrible low growling resonated through the now empty barn, making it audible from even where June and Bella stood. Shane tensed and raised his rifle, ready to gun down the walker that was about to walk through the doors.

Slowly, the silhouette of the walker came into view, revealing one that was much too short – much too young to endure this fate. A dusty white tennis shoe first stepped into the light. And then a light blue shirt with a rainbow on it. Finally, the dirty blonde head raised up to reveal Sophia.

Stunned, no one moved. Shane's hand wavered before dropping completely. June let out a faint squeak before burrowing herself into her mother's arms. Bella, meanwhile, felt numb. What she saw didn't process because _that_ couldn't have been Sophia. It wasn't Sophia.

A cry broke the silence. A blurred figure – Carol – sped past the two. She would've kept going if it wasn't for Daryl to pull her back. Sobbing, Carol collapsed on the ground, now aware of Sophia's terrible fate.

Although only a couple of seconds had past, it felt like an eternity. The walker stumbled out, as if dazed and confused. With a pale, grey arm, it reached for Rick, snarling as it approached.

With grave, haunted eyes that haDn't been there before, Rick stepped up, raised his gun, and shot Sophia.


	17. Nebraska

Bella saw Daryl attempting to hoist a sobbing Carol up from the ground. "Don't look," he grunted.

But as soon as Carol was standing on her on, she used her hands to shove Daryl away. Not looking back at the remains of her daughter, Carol ran toward the campsite with her sobs still lingering at the barn.

Not long after, the young blonde girl – Beth – ran straight to the pile of walkers. Rick attempted to reach out and prevent the distraught girl from heading to the grey bodies. But Beth yanked away from his grasp. In her green converse, she threw herself toward a walker with curly red hair.

"Ma," she gasped, rolling what was once her mother over on her back. Almost immediately, the walker, who had only a chunk of its jaw shot off, lunged for her daughter. Eyes a cloudy grey and teeth bared in a snarl, it reached for Beth with grey, lifeless fingers. Beth immediately started shrieking, inducing a new wave of sobs to rack through her body. Bella and everyone else shot forward immediately. Rick, Shane, and T-Dog managed to wrangle away Beth, along with the help of Jimmy and Hershel. Glenn heaved the walker away, flinging it a few feet back.

Undiscouraged, it started to rise up again until an arrow with white fletching was shot through its head. Bella, with no discernable expression, slowly lowered her bow after using it for the first time. She still didn't move once the distraught Greene family headed back toward their home, with Rick, Glenn, and an incensed Shane in tow.

The rest in front of the barn stood there in silence, still processing the horrific discovery. It was a while before Bella slowly moved forward. Grabbing a blanket, she gently covered what was once Sophia, both out of respect and for the group present.

Afterwards, without a word, she held her hand out to June. The two of them then slowly made their way towards Carol, leaving behind the strange massacre in their wake.

* * *

Bella's hands gripped the beige counter in front of her, knuckles white. Her eyes stared unseeing at the kettle in front of her, steam escaping aggressively from the spout. She hardly reacted with a sudden _click_ interrupted the heavy silence. Shaking herself out of whatever state she was in, Bella reached with trembling hands toward the mugs on the top shelf. Because _of course_ they were on the top shelf.

At that moment, the door opened behind her. Surprised, she looked over her shoulder and saw a grim Daryl entering the RV. Seeing her in the middle of her struggle, Daryl, without a word, reached up and grabbed some cups, settling them gently on the counter in front of Bella. Looking at each other, Bella shook her head and nodded toward Carol, who sat back facing them at the eating table. She was quietly staring out of the window, saying and moving very little. Scooting to the side, Bella allowed him to slide past her in the small space.

He settled on top of the counter behind Bella, a bit off to the side. Bella took the tea leaves she found in the cupboards and placed three in their respective cups. Pouring the steaming water into the mugs, Bella felt strangely soothed as she watched the water immediately begin to change from clear to a pale pink. A flowery smell washed over the RV, and steam rose steadily from the tea.

Her hand still had a slight tremble when she handed a cup to Daryl. He probably didn't even drink tea, especially now. But it was a long-forgotten habit from before. He didn't say anything, but she saw his eyes zone in on her shaky hands. How could he not? Shooting a weapon such as a bow required stability. But what steadiness she had after shooting that walker had dissolved as soon as she sent June to the house with Carl.

Bella grabbed the two other mugs and set them gently in front of Carol. Sitting across the table from her, Bella wrapped her fingers tightly around the hot porcelain. Her hands stopped trembling.

The three sat in silence. No one really drank out of their cups, not that Bella particularly minded. Hell, she didn't even drink anything. It was more out of habit and a need to be doing _something_ that spurred her. It was always the smell more than anything that calmed her down.

When Carol spoke, it sent a jolt through Bella. Soft and quiet, she sounded almost faraway, but the steel in her eyes suggested something entirely. "You were right, you know?"

Bella looked up from her now lukewarm tea and met Carol's pale blue eyes. Carol looked almost empty, emotionless. Bella's eyes briefly glanced toward Daryl. His hands were on his rifle, grounding him, while his eyes met Bella's.

"About what?" Bella asked, voice thick. She didn't know what Carol was going to say, but she prepared herself for a blow.

"When I said no to you training Sophia and me," Carol said, looking down at her own mug. "I said there's no need for that. That the two of us will always be with you guys or each other." She looked back up at Bella, something unfathomable in her eyes. "And you said that there may be a time when we won't be. That there will come a time when we'll have to. You are right."

The guilt in Bella festered. At the time of this conversation, the two were smiling. Bella was insistent, but she respected Carol's choice and didn't fight it. But now, the implications were completely different.

"I wish I wasn't," Bella answered truthfully. Daryl noticed her green eyes appeared duller, more subdued.

A light knock broke the weighty silence that followed. This time, it was Lori. Dirt and dust covered her front and arms. She took in the atmosphere and Carol's despondent form before taking a deep breath. "They're ready."

Carol looked down, not even looking back at Lori. She gave a small shake of her head. "Why?"

Daryl and Bella looked at each other, concerned. Daryl turned back toward Carol and spoke for the first time. "'Cause that's your little girl."

She looked up at him, indignant. Forcefully, she said, "That's not my little girl. That's some _thing_." Carol inhaled shakily before looking back out the window. "My Sophia got lost in the woods. She didn't cry herself to sleep. Never starved. She didn't try to find her way back." Bella stared at Carol, hardly breathing. "Sophia died a long time ago," finished Carol.

Carol made it clear she didn't plan on coming to the funeral, but Bella couldn't follow through with that. Leaving her cold mug on the table, Bella slid out and walked out to follow Lori and Daryl, pausing only to rest her hand on Carol's shoulder.

* * *

After Sophia, Annette, and Shawn's funeral, people began to slowly leave the burial ground. Looking at Sophia's unmarked grave, something nagged at Bella. It wasn't right, to just have dirt be all that represents her. Making a decision, Bella immediately turned and headed to the forest.

June had long gone, saying that she'd go back to check on Carol. It would be good for Carol, Bella thinks, to have a child rather than adult be there for her. Carl helped Bella with Sophia.

Bella stepped over a fallen tree, eyes scanning the bushes. It wasn't long till she found what she wanted.

The pure white blossoms bloomed along a small stream. The bush looked relatively young, which would make this a whole lot easier to accomplish. Her eyes scanned the thin stems which were adorned with many small thorns. She moved her loose strands behind her shoulders to prevent them from getting caught. Taking great care to not prick herself, Bella slipped her right hand through to reach the base of the small bush.

"What're you doin'?"

She jumped, hand jerking. The movement caused her arm to do the very thing she strived not to do – which was to prick herself. Swearing, she drew out her arm, revealing thin, red scratches along her wrist. Thin drops of blood began to blossom from them, reminding her rather morbidly of flowers. She wasn't bleeding profusely, but it was enough for thin rivulets of blood to appear starkly against her pale skin.

"Shit." The gritty and rough voice that belonged to Daryl broke her out of her reverie. He bent down beside her, observing the damage. He took out his rag - the one Bella was sure she had cried and snotted all over when she had first reunited with June.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, ignoring her wrist. She blinked at him rather dumbly, as if wondering if he was actually in front of her.

Daryl ignored her at first. He tied the rag around her wrist, barely even touching her. Cinching it tightly, it was then he looked up at her.

He also seemed to be pretty confused when they made eye contact. He stared at her for a beat too long, so that Bella wondered if there was something on her face. But he cleared his throat and answered, "Saw you wonderin' out here – without your bow." Bella stared at him, before stupidly looking over her shoulder and seeing nothing there. She didn't even realize that.

Daryl sat back, and it was only then Bella registered how little space there was between them before that. "I followed for a while, and I wasn't even tryin' to hide myself. I thought you could hear me, so I didn't know I'd surprise you and you'd react how ya did," he said, gesturing toward her arm.

"I figured you weren't in the right state of mind to be alone." He didn't have to say that, clearly, he was right. Bella thought about how she entered the forest, weaponless, and didn't even notice Daryl when he was right behind her. It was a little embarrassing, so she decided not to say anything about it.

"I wanted to replant this small bush," she nodded toward the Cherokee rose. "And move it to Sophia. It seems empty right now."

A beat of silence. Afterwards, Daryl slowly nodded, blue eyes staring at the blooming flowers. He leaned forward and began to dig around it, moving the dirt away from its base to form a little sort of moat around it, allowing them to reach for its main trunk easier and safer.

They worked in silence for the next hour, still mourning in their own way. Bella focused on brushing away the dirt from the rose's roots, taking care not to catch herself on anymore thorns. When the two finished uprooting it as much as they can, they agreed to cut away the bush.

Bella slowly loosened Daryl's bandana from her arm. The cuts weren't deep, so the bleeding has already slowed, leaving behind a couple of thin red lines on her wrist. They should heal just fine, unless the universe decides to screw her over. A bead of blood began to burst through the cut. The rest of the blood had dried, creating some kind of strange abstract piece on her arm. A different kind of tattoo, Bella thought dryly.

She tightened the bandana over her wrist. "Thanks, again. I'll clean it up and give it back to you later."

He nodded, focused on the bush at hand. He carefully slipped his hand in to where the roots were and used them to grab on to the bush. Once he secured a hold on it, they quietly made their way to Sophia's grave.

Bella had no clue if the plant would even survive after being uprooted. She didn't know if the soil was the right kind or any of that stuff. But this had to be better than an unremarkable piece of rock. If it could bloom and thrive there, a place of mourning and death, it would mean something. It had to.

So, they carefully dug away a small indent where they rusted the bush in. After piling the dirt back over the roots, the two sat back for a bit, hoping that the Cherokee roses would flourish, in the end.

However, almost as soon as they finished planting, Bella noticed that Daryl was hardly moving – barely breathing. His hands formed fists on top of his thighs, knuckles white. He was practically glaring at the roses, blue eyes flashing dangerously. It reminded her of the state he was in when he and Shane almost fought.

"You okay?" Bella asked hesitantly, watching him warily. Her eyebrows furrowed, her confusion only grew when he suddenly stood up and stalked away without an explanation or glance.

Okay.

Bella shook her head. She thought about all the effort he put in to finding the two girls, and maybe he just needed time. He was angry, though. Furious, even. About what she didn't know, but she'll worry about it later.

Her hand that rested on the freshly tossed dirt pressed against the cool soil. Taking a deep breath, Bella allowed herself to briefly mourn before heading to the farmhouse.

Life goes on.

She found June in the living room with Carl. Both of them spoke quietly, if at all. Yet when she walked into the room, they immediately stopped.

"You kids okay? Where is everyone?"

June shrugged uneasily. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she said, "Beth collapsed earlier, but we can't find Hershel. The others say it might be because she went into shock. I think Rick and they are in Hershel's room."

Bella looked up past the stairs, trying to discern movement. Torn, she looked at the two kids. They picked up on her indecision. Carl spoke with a maturity that surprised her, "We'll be fine." He gazed at her, unflinching, while June nodded.

Hesitating, she made her way up the stairs toward the charged discussion taking place.

Walking in the large, open room, Bella took in Shane, Glenn, Rick, and Maggie's state. Her eyes lingered on Shane, searching for something she didn't know. It was the first time she was in the same room as Shane ever since she overheard him and Dale – since she found out Shane killed Otis. But after this morning's events, Bella decided to not think about it – for now.

They looked up at Bella, and in explanation to her obvious confusion, Maggie said, "We need to find Hershel. He shouldn't be out there alone, and Beth needs him."  
Maggie spoke with a boldness, no matter who she was talking to. It was an admirable quality, something Bella picked up on the moment Maggie charged into their group on horseback. With her cropped brown hair, her eyes had a steadiness despite her family's situation.

Rick bent over the large bed, taking in the boxes stuffed with clothing and other items. Picking up a white, lacy blouse, he questioned, "Your step-mother's?"

Bella strode toward the wardrobe, where other items had been removed and placed on top of the furniture. She noticed the top drawer that had been slightly cracked open.

Maggie explained, "He was always so sure that she'd be cured, and that they'd pick up right where they left off."

Bella opened the drawer. It was completely empty besides a silver flask, which rested right in the middle. Pulling it out, she felt the cool, soothing metal against her palm.

"Your father drinks?" Bella asked. If she recalled the night before correctly, Hershel and her both were the only ones who rejected wine.

She already knew the answer to her question when Maggie answered, "No. He stopped the moment I was born. He hasn't ever drunk since."

Bella pursed her lips, her index finger tapping against the metal. His story was unsurprising. Bella's heard it all before. "What is the closest bar?"

"Patlin's. He practically lived there in his drinking days."

Bella's green eyes rose to Rick's. She tossed the flask to him, the familiar weight leaving her hands. "That's where we'd find him. I don't mind going to check it out." Bella felt a sense of obligation toward Hershel. She knew she could him. She'd just need to talk with June before she goes.

Glenn jumped in, looking sure and ready. "I've seen the place. I'll come with."

Rick nods. "Alright, I'll get the truck." Setting down the flask next to the boxes, Rick strode out of the room with Shane and Lori following close behind.

Maggie stops Glenn before he is able to join the others. "No." She didn't say anything else, but even Bella, who barely spoke to Maggie before this, recognized the worry in her tone.

Glenn tried to calm her down, but Maggie was still agitated. Bella stepped in, putting an arm on her shoulder. Trying to convey a sense of conviction, Bella promised, "I'll bring him back."

Maggie frowned, looking at her seriously. "You better." There wasn't malice in her voice, but all the same, there was a small threat. Bella resisted the urge to smile before entering the hallway.

Which, of course, had another argument taking place.

Rick stood beside Lori, who was looking at him beseechingly with wide eyes. "Carl said he would've shot Sophia himself." At this, Rick blinked before looking down at the ground. "He needs his father to not be running around solving everyone's problem."

Bella took his place. "Rick, Glenn and I can handle this. It's just a simple run into town," she said, looking earnestly at him and then Lori. "It won't be anything we can't take on."

Rick sighed, rubbing his chin. His eyes never broke contact. "You sure? There's no reason that it has to be you."

There is. But she won't say that. "I'm sure."

* * *

At the RV, Bella rummaged through the gun bag, considering each option before picking a semi-automatic pistol. She wasn't going to take any chances out there, for June and her sakes. The former stood next to her silently, which said more than if she had used her words.

June didn't argue against it. She understood why Bella had to go – it just doesn't mean she won't worry. After tucking in the gun to her thigh holster, which was placed over her jeans, she made sure her bow and quiver were ready to go. Taking a deep breath, she set her hands on June's shoulders. "You sure you're okay with this?"

June shrugged half-heartedly. "As okay as I'll ever be."

Bella patted her. "Hey, it should only be a few hours at most. I'll be back, like always."

Bella sighed before placing a kiss on the top of her head. She remembered Lori's words. "Be good. And watch out for Carl and Carol for me, okay? Just be there for them."

June nodded, brown eyes somber.

Seeing Glenn and Maggie making their way to the RV, Bella nudged June out to meet them. As Bella climbed out, her eyes scanned the land. After today's events, most people had decided to go to their tents or elsewhere for some time to mourn and recuperate. Her eyes stopped as they rested on a figure that sat alone far from the campsite. Squinting, she made out Daryl's figure, and, to her surprise, saw that he was setting up a tent.

Bella thought about checking on him, but knowing that Glenn was ready to leave, she decided to do it when she'd come back.

With one last hug to June and a wave to Maggie, Bella climbed in the passenger's seat to join Glenn. With a soft roar of the red Chevy truck, they drove out of the farm.

Bella wasn't really in the mood to talk. But she picked up on Glenn's distraught after he said goodbye to Maggie. Figuring it was due to the argument about him going, she decided to ignore it. Instead, she took out a charging cable and connected it to the port of the car's radio system. Plugging in her music player, she was relieved to see it light up. But Glenn clearly did not want whatever was in his mind to stay there. "Maggie said she loves me."

Wide-eyed, Bella snapped her head towards Glenn, leaning back slightly to take in his less than enthusiastic look. "Say what now?"

Glenn chuckled nervously, more air than anything. Hand clenching and unclenching the steering wheel, he briefly looked at her with a slightly panicked look. "She didn't man it – obviously."

Bella opened her mouth, but Glenn cut across quickly. "I mean, why should she? We just met." He shook his head, and Bella decided to wait until he let it all out. "She's just upset or – or – confused. She doesn't understand what she's feeling right now, right?" Desperation tinged his voice. " _Right?_ "

Feeling a bit concerned that this worked up man was behind the wheel, she adopted a soothing tone. "I think that she's smart enough to know what she's feeling."  
Glenn shook his head adamantly. "Nope. No." Bella snorted. She began to go through a playlist. Glenn continued, "She just wants love at a time like this, ya know? Something to, like, _hold onto._ " His grip tightened on the wheel.

Bella shook her head. "C'mon, Glenn Coco. It's pretty obvious that she loves you. For you. And, to be honest, it seems like you love her too."  
Glenn swallowed. "But I didn't say it back. I stood there, like a jerk before running into the car."

Bella grinned at that. Seeing Glenn's less than amused face, she attempted to smoothen out her expression. "Look, stuff like this rarely happens these days. I think you should be grateful for this, because not everyone is going to be as lucky as you two. What're you going to do otherwise? Not love her? Just because you're _afraid?_ "

"It's just," Glenn sighed exasperatedly, "this is going on way too fast. She doesn't even know me. We're practically strangers, so how could she love me?"

"Glenn," Bella said seriously, turning her body to look at him. "I hardly know any of you guys. I don't know shit about your favorite color or what kind of food you like. That stuff doesn't matter. What I know is that you are a great guy who deserves to be with a girl like Maggie. Maggie definitely knows that, and she loves you for it. And you do too."

She continued, "So, here is what's going to happen. We are going to get Hershel and go back to the farm. You are going to march up toward her like fucking Romeo and say it back. It's not like she's going anywhere, and neither are we."

Glenn took a deep breath and nodded. "Thanks."  
Bella settled back, satisfied. Her foot tapped along with the music. "No problem. It's an honor to be your hype-woman," she said seriously. Glenn rolled his eyes just as they rolled up to the bar.

Dingy, it looked every bit like one of those western bars from television – it just missed the swinging doors. The shabby sign that swung above the open door declared, "PATLIN'S" in bold, gaudy lettering.

The two cautiously passed through the door, eyes sweeping to clear out the inside. Covered in dust, the place had only one sign of footprints – there hadn't been any one else in a while. The chairs were tucked in neatly underneath the tables. The only inhabitant belonged to the man they came here for, who sat a straight shot ahead on one of the high chairs at the bar.

"Hershel," Bella called out from the doorway. With the pale light that shone through the windows, she could see an almost empty bottle of liquor beside him, and one of his hands clasped around a glass.

"Who else is with you?" He didn't even turn around. Glenn and she exchanged a look. She slowly stepped forwards.

"Glenn."  
"Maggie sent him?"

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see. "No. He volunteered. He's good like that."  
Hershel ignored that. "I'm surprised Rick didn't show up himself."

"I volunteered."  
He snorted, which was strange to see from the typically-controlled Hershel. "Because you're good like that?"

Bella slowly walked forward till she reached the bar next to him. "No. Because I hate to see a man who has been sober for over twenty years relapse." The white-haired man glanced at his cup solemnly. "How many have you had?"

Hershel sighed. "Not enough." He rose the glass up to his mouth. Bella resisted the urge to slap it away, knowing the damage has been done and that it would more likely rile him up more than anything.

She looked back at Glenn, who stood anxiously at the door way. He nodded to Hershel, clearly telling her to get a move on.

"Look," she sighed. "Beth collapsed." At that, Hershel looked up at Bella for the first time. "She's in some kind of shock. And I think you are too."

Hershel didn't appear to react. He didn't appear to be particularly present in the conversation, but he still asked, "Maggie's with her?"

Bella nodded. "But she needs her father."

Hershel shook his head and took a large gulp. "What could I do? I robbed her of mourning for her brother – her mother. I see that now." He breathed in, looking older than he's ever been. "I've been a fool."  
"You thought there was a cure. You had hope. There's nothing wrong with that."

Hershel scoffed, shaking his head. "Hope? I had little hope I could cure Rick's boy, and I had little hope we'd find your girl. And when we did, I thought it as proof that miracles could happen. But now, I see that it was simply bait – a misguidance. My daughters deserve better than a fool as a father."

He reached for the liquor bottle, but Bella swiped it before he could get it. The distinctive and enticing scent reached her nose. He lashed out, voice rising. "Just go! I do the Christian thing and give you and your people shelter – and you _destroy_ it all. When I saw that girl come out of the barn," he shuddered. "I knew there was no hope. And I knew you all knew it too. There is no hope for any of us."

She had enough of hearing this man mope. She had enough of this _stench_. She had enough of this shitty situation. "Look, none of that means shit. Not if you want you or your girls to survive. They deserve you – the man who cut off drinking for them. The father who had successfully allowed them to live and thrive when the world fell. This," she raised up the liquor bottle, swirling its contents around, "will do nothing to change that. What we believe doesn't mean anything anymore. That won't stop the world from moving."

Hershel covered his face with a hand, the other still clenching his glass. Glenn slowly made his way toward them, worry etched on his face. Bella spoke furiously, trying to make him look at her. "My daughter could've ended up in the foster system – just like I did. Hell, she would've if I hadn't cleaned up my act. I took my last drink the night I decided I'd be there for her." She vaguely remembered Dale's words to Shane. " _That_ is something you just do not give up on just because the world goes to shit. Shit happens. But your daughters don't have to go down with it – mine surely won't."

Hershel breathed heavily. Bella waited for abated breath for his reply, ready to challenge back. But at that moment, with an ominous creak, the front door swung open.

The light that entered with the two men was almost blinding, initially making it difficult to perceive them. She heard them before she saw them.  
"Son of a bitch." The voice was distinctly male and carried a humorous tone. "They're alive."

As the door swung to a close, Bella saw that the man speaking was of average height and build – shouldn't be too hard to handle. He carried a gun in his hand – the only one on him, as far as she could tell. The other man was rather large who looked as though he had an even larger ego. Bella noted his rifle slung around his shoulders.

The first man gave an easy and charming grin as he tucked in his gun to his waistband. Bella relaxed outwardly, but she watched with still eyes for any movement. She breathed in slowly, willing for her heart to calm down. He strode forward comfortably, as if they were longtime friends. Sitting down at a table in front of the bar, he sat down as though they were meeting for lunch.

"So," he said, smile still on his face. He nodded towards the bottle in Bella's hand. "Why don't we join y'all for a drink?" The other guy sat on a stool against the wall closest to Hershel – which, Bella noted, allowed them to have eyes on the three of them.

Putting a small, just as charming smile on her face, Bella grabbed three glasses and placed them on the man's table. As she filled them up, she thought she could've been working another shift from before.

"I'm Dave," said Dave. He nodded toward his friend. "That scrawny guy over there is Tony."  
Tony snorted. "Eat me, Dave."  
Dave chuckled good-naturedly. "Hey, maybe someday I will." Bella handed him a glass. She could see him not-so subtly eye her, still wearing the dark green button up from before. It could pass off as a typical one-over, but she knew he was probably more interested in her gun, knife, and bow. "We just came from I-95, up from Philly. That was a special kind of shit show."

Glenn, who had moved behind the bar, broke the silence first out of the three. Giving a small laugh, he introduced himself amiably, "I'm Glenn. It's nice to finally meet some new people."  
Bella turned around to hand him his drink, eyes staring into him intensely. Despite his friendly nature, Bella was relieved to see that his hand, which was hidden from everyone else, was clenching his gun.

"Bella," she said, turning back, a small smile on her lips. Dave considered that as she handed Tony his drink, who was definitely staring an inappropriate way. Tony was lounged back on his stool as if he owned the place. As Bella leaned against the bar's counter, ankles crossed, she decided that Dave was the wild card out of the two. He was too charming, too nice. Which was something, in this world, that was unnecessary and often used as a cover. It meant they wanted something. It was how Roy and his men approached her.

"And you two?" Dave asked, nodding at her and Hershel while raising his cup.

Bella shrugged, arms crossed. "I don't drink."  
Hershel, who she had purposely not filled up his cup, said, to her relief, "I just quit." It would've been unquestioned if it wasn't for his obvious bleary eyes and the smell that lingered on him.

Dave chuckled. "Clearly."  
Bella cut in, testing him. "He's Hershel. He lost people today – people close to him."

Dave sighed, looking at his cup. Shaking his head, he said with sincerity, "I'm truly sorry for that." He raised his glass, "To better days and new friends. And to our dead – may they be in a better place."  
It would've been a good attempt to clear the air, if it wasn't for the fact that only Glenn, Dave, and Tony drank. Bella thought they seemed _alright_ so far, but it was way too soon to tell.

"So," Bella asked, head cocked. "How'd you guys end up here? It's a long way from Philadelphia."  
Dave let out a booming laugh. "Feels like a long way from anywhere! We didn't choose here for the weather – must've dropped thirty pounds from sweat alone." He shook his head. "Nah, first it was D.C., but the roads were so bad we decided to continue heading down. We met a lot of people along the way, each chasing some new rumor."

Tony cut in. "We heard there was some coast guard in the south. Another said there were trains in the middle of the country that headed toward places like Kansas and Nebraska."

"Nebraska?" Glenn raised his eyebrows. "What's there?"

Tony shrugged. "Low population but lots of guns." Glenn nodded, thoughtful.

Dave leaned forward. "Ever been to Nebraska, kid? There's a reason they call 'em flyover states."  
Tony and Dave laughed, and Glenn gave an easy chuckle. Bella simply quirked a corner of her lips up, green eyes not looking away from Dave's hand.

"How about you guys?" Dave had stopped laughing but had an easy expression on his face.

Bella was prepared for this, and she looked at him seriously. "Fort Benning, eventually."

He shook his head. "I hate to piss in your corner, miss, but it's been overrun by lamebrains. We passed a few soldiers who were stationed there who said so themselves."

Bella gave out a long exhale, before looking up at the ceiling. To everyone else, it looked as though she was processing the news. But really, she was trying to see a way out. She'd deal with this information later.

But Glenn sounded genuinely shocked, which was probably good for them. "Fort Benning? You serious?"

Dave gravely nodded. "Yeah, there doesn't seem to be a way out of this mess. This is our life now." Bella and Hershel glanced at each other, remembering their previous conversation. "Trying not to get eaten by walkers when you sleep."  
Tony scoffed, "If you sleep."  
Dave made a noise of agreement. "Yeah." He looked at them eyes wide. "Hey, it doesn't look like y'all are hanging your panties here." Dave's eyes lingered at Bella's before moving to Hershel. "You holed up somewhere else?"

Bella sighed, tiredly. "Not really," she said, looking at him in the eyes. "We've been driving our way down, just like you guys I'm sure."

Dave raised his eyebrows. "Those your cars out front?" He asked, gesturing towards the doors.

"Yeah, why?" Glenn asked. Bella tried not to wince at his answer.

But Dave, however, leapt on eagerly. "Well, we've been living in ours for a while. We checked your cars out before coming in. They seemed empty, clean – unused."

Bella's apprehension rose as Dave continued to look nonchalant. To her relief, Hershel answered in the controlled way Bella really appreciated at this moment. "We are with a larger group. We went out ahead to scavenge, and we thought we could use a drink."

Dave grinned. "A drink? Why, Hershel, I thought the two of you-" he gestured at him and Bella "- didn't drink."

Neither of the three took the bait, so Dave continued. "Well, we're thinking of setting up around here, just like you folks. Is it safe?"

"It can be," said Glenn. Bella turned her head toward him. She didn't turn all the way around, not wanting to let Dave surprise her, but Glenn still got the message. "Uh, but we still have killed a couple of walkers around here."

Dave attempted to bring some lightness in the air, clearly picking up on Bella's less than welcoming attitude. "You call 'em walkers? I like it better than lamebrains."  
Tony nodded. "Sounds more succinct."  
Dave snorted, looking at Bella as if sharing a joke. "Tony went to college for two years."  
Tony bristled. "That's right – two years."  
Dave chuckled.

The other three stared at him. Bella cocked her head at Dave, eyes never leaving his face.

Dave just smiled back, and he pushed, "So what? You holed up in the outskirts or something?"

"Or the new housing developments?" Tony heaved himself off of the chair and walked in front of them, eyes lingering on Bella. He headed to the other wall, now standing next to her. "Or the trailer parks?"

Dave pushed even more. "A farm?"

Bella saw his eyes zone in on something beside her – Glenn. Perhaps seeing something to spur him on, Dave became more insistent. "This farm - does it have fences? Food?"

Tony's obnoxious voice cut in. "Some cooze? I haven't had ass in weeks."

A trickling noise interrupts the group. The four look over to see that Tony had begun urinating against the wall. Bella's eyes narrowed, and she began to tense.

"Christ, Tony. We've got a lovely lady over here." Dave shook his head, amiably smiling at Bella's discomfort. "Sorry about him. He's from the city." As if that explained it.

Dave continued, boldly looking into Bella's steely eyes. She wasn't smiling anymore. "How about some southern hospitality?" He leaned forward, and then spoke earnestly. "We have some guys back at camp who are struggling. I'm sure you could make room for a few more. Maybe us two can work out something together to benefit all of us?" His suggestive tone made Bella bristle, but she forced herself to not react.

Bella, face blank, calmly said, "I'm sorry, but that is not an option."

Dave leaned back, eyes shifting to Tony. Bella stood very still, waiting.

Hershel continued, "We simply can't take in anymore. I'm sorry."

Dave let out a strained chuckle – his façade was breaking. "You guys are really something else." He shook his head, disappointed. "I thought we were friends. We have people we got to look out for, too."

Bella spoke deliberately, her voice low and drawn out. "We do not know anything about you."

Dave leaned back under her piercing gaze. "You're right." He paused. "You don't know anything about us. About what we've been through. What we've had to do. I'm sure you," he said, looking back at her, unflinching, "had to do some of it too."

He tapped his finger. Bella's eyes flickered down to that before looking back at him. "So, why don't we go on a hayride to your farm where we could get to know everybody?"

Bella answered, unyielding as always, "That is not going to happen."  
Tony scoffed. Pacing, he exclaimed, "This is bullshit."

Bella barely glanced at him. Voice cold, she said, "Calm down."

That caused Tony to puff up. "Calm down? Don't ever tell me to calm down, you little bitch."

Bella didn't even blink, but the ever-heroic Glenn tried to reign Tony back. Tony continued to shout, anger rising. "I'll shoot you three assholes in the head and take your damn farm."

At that, Bella felt rage. Her face cold and expressionless, she immediately straightened up, pushing away from the counter. Before she could move towards him, Dave jumped up and placed himself between the two.

"Whoa whoa. Guys, relax." He put on that damn smile again. Chuckling, he made his way to the wall across from Tony, placing Bella between them. "Take it easy. Nobody's going to do any killing."

Dave jumped over the countertop, landing behind the bar. "Right, Bella?"

She turned toward him but heard a familiar sound of a hand smacking against a gun from behind her. Fingers twitching beside her holster, she clenched her jaw. She watched Dave slowly raise his gun and place it on the countertop. Bella kept one eye on the mirror behind him, seeing Tony in its reflection, hand still on his rifle. It would take him too long to swing it around, when it came to it.

Dave clapped his hands. "Now, where's the good stuff?" He bent down, causing Bella to immediately grab onto her gun. Dave let out a strained chuckle before raising a bottle from the bar. "This will do."

He poured himself a drink. He gave another attempt. "You know how it is. We can't stay out there."

Bella narrowed her eyes at him, so slight that it was hardly noticeable. "I do. But the farm is as crowded as it is. You'll have to keep looking."

Dave inhaled. "Where do you suggest we do that?"

Bella raised her eyebrows. "I don't know." She cocked her head. "I heard Nebraska was nice."

Dave laughed, shaking his head. "'Nebraska.' You're some lady."

Bella saw his hand twitch, and, reflexively, immediately pulled out her gun in a split second. Pulling the trigger, she didn't even check to see if her aim was true before spinning on her heels and letting out another shot.

Tony cried out as red began to blossom on his white. Stepping up, she didn't blink as she raised the gun again, this time hitting him in the head.

Bella stared at his bleeding body, her cold expression not slipping. She felt her heart beating against her chest, so rapidly and strongly that it almost hurt. Her head felt light, but her grip on her gun never faltered.

Glancing around, she realized with a start that it was dark out. Bella looked up at Hershel and Glenn, who appeared to still be shell-shocked by the quick, effortless deaths that took place. Bella followed their gaze back to Tony's prone body before bending down and pulling his rifle away, slinging it around her shoulders. Just like Roy's men.

As she stood up, the other two moved and stood on either side of her. She glanced at Glenn, who was still staring at Tony.

"Hey," she said, trying to soften her expression and voice. Glenn jolted and looked back down at her. "You good?"

Glenn blinked. To her relief, he nodded. "Yeah. I am."

She turned to Hershel with an eyebrow raised. Hershel stared long and hard at her, his expression unfathomable. It felt like an eternity had passed before he gave a short nod. "Let's head back."


	18. Triggerfinger

The sun was still shining brightly when Rick approached Daryl. Far from the camp, Daryl had already set up his tent next to a sizeable oak tree. String with metal parts tied to it circled his territory to act as a warning in case a wayward walker was coming by. If this didn't tell Rick that Daryl clearly didn't want to talk to anybody, then Daryl didn't know what will. But he still took a petty satisfaction in that Rick had to endure the walk all the way over here.

He was leaning against the tree underneath its shade with a pile of thin sticks next to him. Using his knife, Daryl had begun carving out bolts since he only had one bolt left. Feeling Rick's inquisitive stare, Daryl stubbornly refused to speak. He focused on the knife in his hands and the amount of wood he carved.

Rick sighed and leaned on his left leg, one hand on hip. "Hey, Beth fell over and is now in some kind of shock. We need Hershel."

Daryl scoffed, not looking up. "So, what?" Doesn't sound like his problem at all.

Rick bent down. "We sent two out to get him from town an hour ago. It's only been a little while, but I want you to go out and check on them."  
Daryl vaguely remembered seeing the red truck driving out, but he simply ignored it. Wasn't his problem. But in response, Daryl violently stabbed the ground with his knife. "Why the hell you askin' me? Can't you do it yourself?"

Rick clenched his jaw before standing back up. "Lori refuses to have me go. She wants me here with Carl."  
Daryl shot up. He moved forward, getting in Rick's face. But the man did nothing, infuriating Daryl even more. "You kiddin' me? Can't do it yourself, so you sendin' me? I ain't your bitch, Grimes."  
Rick shakes his head. "How can you say that? How can you not care about the others?"

Daryl stiffened, hand clenching around the unfinished bolt in his hand. "Not care? I was out lookin' for that little girl more than all of y'all combined, and you think I don't care? Hell, I took a bullet and an arrow in the process. I'm _done_ lookin' for people and doin' y'all's dirty work."

He threw himself back down, pulling out the knife. "Leave me the hell alone. I ain't your errand boy anymore."

* * *

He thought that would be the end of it, but a couple of hours later, Daryl heard smaller, lighter footsteps approaching him. It had been dark out for a few hours now, and he figured most people should be asleep right now. He angrily jabbed the large stick in his hands towards the lit firewood, causing flames to violently spark up before calming down. He ignored the intense heat he felt on his hand and continued prodding the firewood.

Whoever it was stood a few feet away, unsure, before plopping themselves next to Daryl. He looked up incredulously, ready to tell whoever the hell this is to get the hell away from him and to just leave him alone. But he saw June sitting there, as if this was a typical sit down.

She was fidgeting with her shoelaces while staring into the flames, eyebrows furrowed. She didn't say anything, which irritated Daryl to no end.

"What?" His voice was sharp, unamused.

June nudged her foot, causing the dirt beneath to give way. Making small circles in the ground, she said, "The others haven't come back yet from getting Hershel."  
Daryl stabbed at the fire angrily, causing it to flare up once more. The smoke was making the air hazy and disorienting, putting him in an even fouler mood. He refused to say anything back, not even looking towards her.

She continued, voice glum. "It was only supposed to be for a few hours at most. But it's midnight, and they still haven't come back."

Daryl scoffed. "Look, kid, I have no obligation to go searchin' for anybody – not again. I already told Rick this."  
June looked almost scandalized. "Rick already told you, and you didn't go?" She sounded every bit like an outraged teen girl.

Daryl's foot kicked over the pile of extra firewood. They fell over with dull, unsatisfying thuds. Riled up by this little girl's ungrateful, disappointed tone, he snapped, "Why the hell you talkin' to me 'bout this? You shouldn't even be out here. Go talk to your mom and figure it out on y'all's own."  
She didn't say anything. Annoyed by her silence – because _now_ she chooses to be silent – Daryl lifts his head to glare at her. But then he saw her confused face, eyes wide in disbelief.

He understood what that meant.

"Shit," he growled. Daryl threw down his prodding stick into the fire with such a force that it bounced off and rolled away. "Shit." After violently kicking the dirt around it to snuff out the fire, he began to stalk off toward the farm, still feeling the heat of the fire in his blood.

"C'mon," he barked at June, who immediately, with a small, hidden smile, followed him close behind.

* * *

"What do you mean we ain't goin' out to find 'em?" Daryl paced around the cluttered living room. Looked like a damn retirement home.

Rick sat on the coffee table with his hand on his mouth. "Why are you suddenly interested? You made it pretty clear you didn't want to be a part of this."

Daryl resisted the urge to chuck something at his head. He angrily swung his arm. "Don't make this 'bout me. Answer the damn question."  
Shane was leaning against the wall next to the window. "It's dark out right now. We don't know where this place is, and we can't be blindly running around into walkers."

Daryl scoffed. "That's a piss answer. What? Just because they ain't family you aren't going to go out lookin'? Don't mean shit if this isn't about Lori or Carl."  
Rick jumped up, agitated. "Daryl, we'll go out as soon as there's light."

Daryl shook his head, fists clenched at his side. He moved around Rick and continued pacing. "I'll go out and get 'em myself. Don't need any of y'all." He made a move to head toward the door, but Rick put himself in front of him. Daryl shoved his shoulder against Rick's, but Shane had made his way to help block the door.

Putting a hand on Daryl's shoulder, more to push him back than for comfort, Rick forced Daryl to look at him. "You and I know better than anyone what Bella is capable of," he said, referencing Roy's men - something only the three of them truly know about. "If any of us can make it out of a tricky situation, it's her. Glenn, Hershel, and Bella are probably just hiding out somewhere for the night. Maybe Hershel had gotten himself so drunk that they have to wait it out. But either way, we'll go out in just a few hours when it gets lighter."

By the time the sun had barely peaked over the tree line, Daryl was already at the cars, seriously contemplating just driving off on his bike. But June hovered over him anxiously, and he knew the girl would snitch when the time came. To his relief, Rick and T-Dog were making their way over with Shane and the gun bag in tow.

Shane dumped the bag on the Subaru's hood, and Daryl immediately reached in to grab a semi-automatic rifle. Checking its chamber, he was satisfied to see it was fully loaded.

The four men were huddled around the trunk of the car, making sure they had what they needed, when suddenly, Andrea appeared behind them.

"Guys," she said, nodding toward the north direction with a small smile on her face.

The familiar red truck was making its way down the dirt road. The roar of its engine soon became audible from even where he stood. As it got closer, Daryl could make out Bella's green shirt in the driver's seat.

Only seeing her hair flying around through the open window, Daryl stepped back as the car drove past them before slowing in front of the farmhouse. June started running toward it, curly hair bouncing. Daryl and Rick followed not far behind.

The truck squealed as Bella pressed on the breaks and put in park. Daryl saw her door opening, and as soon as she stepped out and shut it behind her, June had jumped into her arms. Bella crouched down, returning the hug just as strongly.

Hershel had walked out of the passenger's seat just as Maggie had run toward Glenn, and it was then that Daryl took in his somber expression. Looking back at Bella, who stood only a few feet away, he didn't see any fresh injuries or even blood on her person. Ignoring the small flash of guilt that appeared when he saw the scratches on her wrist, Daryl was relieved to see that she was unharmed. But when she stood back up, with June still holding onto her, he saw that she wasn't smiling. She didn't have any sort of expression on her face, just like when she first met them as strangers. With her pale, blank face and wary eyes, he knew something was off.

"What happened to you guys?" June asked in disbelief.

But before she could respond, Daryl took a less than subtle approach. Marching up to her, he glowered down at Bella's withdrawn expression. "What the hell did you think you were doin'?"

Bella's eyes widened incredulously. Scoffing, she raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Excuse me?"

Ignoring the staring from the others around them, Daryl refused to stop. "Goin' out there like that when you just got your girl back? Are you psycho?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she stepped up daringly. They were right in each other's faces, and it was clear that an intense shouting row was about to go down. But before she could shout back at him, T-Dog's confused tone was so out of place that everyone looked at him.

"Who the hell is that?"

And to Daryl's astonishment, a kid with a jacked-up leg clambered out of the truck. This seem to have caused Bella's mood to sour even more. With a huff, she stormed past Daryl with June and hand.

"I'm going to take a shower," she practically snarled out, as if inviting anyone else to argue against her. Everyone parted in response, allowing the vexed woman to storm into the house. This left behind a simmering and cross Daryl to kick at the pristine white porch.

* * *

Glenn sat at one of the dining table seats, looking at his hands which were clenched around a glass of water. Since Hershel had gone to fix up the boy – Randall – and Bella had gone to take a shower, it just left him to explain last night's events.

"The guys seemed nice enough, you know? We sat around and talked – well, Bella did most of the talking. Told them we were heading to Fort Benning with a larger group. Said we'd gone ahead to scout and decided to stop by for a drink. But the guys started asking about where we were holing up." Glenn swallowed, not looking up from his glass.

"They asked if we had a farm or something. I think – I think they saw my face and knew. Started getting more impatient and kept asking questions. You could start to tell these guys were off. Started saying lewd things to Bella, and one guy just pissed in front of her."

Daryl clenched his jaw, eyes not leaving Glenn. He leaned besides the front door, away from everybody else but allowing him to see everyone.

"But she refused to give up the location. The leader – Dave – went behind the counter to get a drink. Once he realized we weren't going to say anything, he started to draw his gun." Glenn nervously tapped his finger against the glass. "But Bella was faster. Shot him and the other guy."

He took a long draught. Everyone stood in heavy silence, no one wanting to break it. Rick and Daryl briefly made eye contact.

"Before we could leave, we heard these other guys outside looking for Dave and Tony. This eventually led to a shoot-out, which attracted a whole bunch of walkers. It caused the other guys to run away, and in the process, they left behind one of their guys – Randall."

Glenn leaned back, looking around at everyone. Daryl looked up to see Bella quietly come down the stairs. She moved in the room so silently that most didn't even notice she was there. Leaning against the wall across from him on her left shoulder, she refused to even glance his way. Her damp hair framed her looked grave and serious face. "Hershel refused to leave him behind. Didn't want any more deaths, so we had to help him take Randall back. We blindfolded him, so the boy doesn't know who or where we are."

Andrea spoke out, being the first to ask the question on everybody's mind. "What do we do with him?"

Before anyone could even begin to think about that, a worn and drained Hershel entered the room. Wiping what appeared to be blood from his hands, Hershel said, "I repaired his calf muscle the best I can, but he'll probably have some permanent nerve damage. Has to sit out for at least a week."

Rick, who stood at the head of the dining table, arms braced against the chair in front of him, nodded. "We'll give the kid a canteen and drop him off far along the highway."

Shane stood across from him next to the window. "You kiddin' me? You just gonna send this threat away?"

Bella spoke for the first time, surprising everyone. Ignoring the group's wary looks thrown at her, she said, "Look, I didn't want him here, but the kid was blindfolded. He doesn't know where we are, and he isn't a threat."

Shane scoffed, shaking his head. Looking at her, he questioned, "Isn't a threat? You just killed some of their men-" Daryl saw her purse her lips but otherwise didn't even blink. "-took one of them hostage, but they ain't just gonna come around looking?"

"They left him for dead," she hissed. "No one is looking."

T-Dog spoke calmly, looking at everyone. "We should still post up a guard. Just in case."

Shane wasn't having it. In his booming voice, he began to march his way out. "Ya know what? I'm gonna get the kid some flowers and balloons in the meantime. Because this is fantasyland, folks." He sneered derisively at Hershel and Bella as he passed them.

Bella scowled, but Hershel imploded. His voice the loudest Daryl's ever heard from him, Daryl saw the man that led his family to survive up to now. "You know we haven't even dealt with what you did back at the barn? I wanted to kick you out, and I was going to. But Rick talked me out of it, so I'm letting you stay." He strode up to Shane undaunted. "So, if you're going to stay here, you need to accept the fact that this is _my farm_. So, do us both a favor and keep your mouth shut."

Daryl gave a soft snort. He liked this Hershel.


	19. 18 Miles Out

Bella shifted her weight to her other knee, not pausing as she hammered the wood to cover the gaping hole of the barn's roof. Once the head of the nail hit the wood, she leaned back with her hammer still raised, appreciating her work. Satisfied, she reached to grab another plank of wood.

The feel of the hammer hitting solidly against the nail was almost soothing. Hardly thinking of anything else, she just focused on the grain of the wood and the sight of the nail slowly sinking into the grain. A cool blast of wind picked up, causing the wisps of hair that framed her face to pick up. Ignoring it, her green eyes steadily looked on.

It was getting chilly at nights. The only reason the wind was bearable now was that during the day, the sun provides warmth to counteract the chill. Rick had been talking about plans for the winter, and all Bella thought was how strange the situation was. They were talking like how they do in movies – have to get enough food to sustain themselves, find wood for fires, maybe use the barn as protection against the soon to be frigid air – it's why she was patching up the barn right now. Empty, inconsequential words in films, but a plan for survival now.

Bella finished nailing in the block of wood. Settling back on her heels, she took in the now completely sealed patch of roof. She took the chance to scan her eyes around the land. Her hand reached up to adjust her earbuds, the music becoming clearer. In the car ride to the bar and back, she had taken the chance to recharge her music player using the car's battery. Might be a waste of power, but what did it matter at this point?

There was some bustling movement around the farmhouse – Rick and Shane were supposed to leave soon to drop Randall off to who knows where, not that she wanted to know. Besides that, the sun was still young enough to cast a tinge of warm yellow over the green grass. The branches of trees swayed leisurely in the breeze. Their long, slanted shadows danced along the ground with them. She could make out the flourishing Cherokee rose bush on Sophia's grave. With winter coming, the leaves will fall, but it will eventually grow back in the spring.

"Bella?" A faint, young voice reached her ears from below her. Startled, she glanced down over the edge to see a rather timid Carl standing by the ladder. "Can I talk to you?"

She blinked, removing her earbuds. "Of course." Carl made a move toward the ladder. "Uh, no – stay down there." Shoving the hammer in her belt, she swung her leg over the ledge till it contacted one of the ladder's rungs. As she made her way down, she nostalgically remembered the water tower. Heights have never bothered her. They cleared her mind, forcing her to only focus on her hands and feet. Plus, nothing could ever beat the view.

Once her feet touched solid ground, Bella hopped off and looked at Carl with a raised eyebrow. Leaning back against the ladder, she watched as he nervously shifted weight on his other leg with his hands clasped behind him.

"Can I show you something? And can you not tell my parents?" He looked up at her with Rick's blue eyes, attempting to give her the puppy-eyes. But she raised June and learned very quickly how to not be overcome by it.

She cocked her head, feeling the weight of her ponytail swing with the motion. She crossed her arms. Her gloved finger tapped against her bicep. "Depends."

With a heavy sigh, Carl took something out from behind him, revealing a very real glock. Eyes widening, Bella stepped forward and grabbed it from him, fingers grasping the gun's grip. Biting her lip, she skillfully pulled back the slide enough to see that the chamber was still full.

"I took it from Daryl's motorcycle when he wasn't looking. Please don't tell him – he'll kill me."

She looked up at him incredulously, feeling the weight of the glock.

"Carl," she spoke slowly, eyes scanning Carl's pale face. "Why did you get it in the first place?"

He began to draw circles in the dirt with a foot, just like June does when she's anxious. He simply shrugged, the brim of his hat covering his face.

"Carl," she said warningly.

He spoke reluctantly, as if preparing himself for a reprimanding. "I wanted to shoot a walker." She raised her eyebrows in surprise. She reflected to when she heard Lori tell Rick that Carl said he would've shot Sophia himself. "I went to the forest and found one stuck in the mud." He continued to look at the ground, voice mumbling, "I started throwing rocks at it. I was going to shoot it – I swear. But-" he swallowed. "- I couldn't do it. So I left."

Bella let out a long exhale. She leaned back against the ladder, looking at the gun in her hands. Thumb rubbing against the side of the barrel, she pondered. She thought of what Carol said to her in the RV after Sophia's death. Her regret on not teaching Sophia how to protect herself. How June made it out, but Sophia didn't.

She held out the gun to Carl, grip first. "Keep it."  
Carl backed away, eyes wide. He was afraid. "No. No, I don't want it."  
Bella bent down in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "Carl, you need to be able to protect yourself. As long as you are with your daddy or me or anyone else in this group, you'd be safe. We'll keep you safe. But it won't always be like that. You _need_ to learn."

Carl shook his head, panicked. He began to back away. "No – just give it back to Daryl."

Before she could say anything, he ran off, dust kicking up behind him. Bella squinted towards the farmhouse and saw two figures – one of which could possibly be Rick - standing on the front porch. He hasn't left yet, to her relief. Tucking the gun into the small part of her back, she slowly walked in his direction. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her worn, brown-leather jacket. It fitted her form nicely and is one of the nicest things she owned. Although it had been with her for years, it has hasn't showed signs of giving up.

As she approached, she made out the man next to him to be Daryl, who's back was facing her direction. How symbolic. Bella tried not to grimace. Ever since she had come back from the bar _successfully_ with Hershel a couple days ago, and Daryl had given her a less-than welcoming greeting, the two had studiously been ignoring each other since then. It was pretty easy considering Daryl had self-exiled himself to the edge of the farm. They hadn't been around each other much, which was just _fine_ for her.

The two men stood around a table on the porch. Rick faced her, looking out toward the farm while Daryl was leaning back against the railing. A map was in Daryl's hand – they'd probably just finished planning Rick and Shane's drop-off. They had agreed to go eighteen miles out in the last meeting. They didn't seem to notice her as she got closer, but she saw Rick stop talking as he looked at her. The ever-observant Daryl followed his gaze. His steel blue eyes met hers as she walked up to the porch.

He clenched his jaw and tossed the map at Rick. "I'm going to take a piss."  
Bella pursed her lips and crossed her arms, refusing to look at his retreating form. She resisted the urge to flip him off.

Rick, wisely not commenting on the cold exchange before him, gestured Bella to join him up on the porch. Walking up the steps, she asked, "Have you seen Carl recently?"

Rick waved toward the house. "He's inside with Lori."

Leaning her hip against the railing – the same spot as Daryl – she reached behind her to take out the glock. Setting it on top of the railing between them, she said, "He came up to me just now to give me this." Rick frowned, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Said he took it from Daryl's motorcycle."

Rick reached forward and grabbed the gun. Performing the same press check she had just done, he asked, "Did he say why?"

She recounted Carl's run-in with the walker, and Carl's fear in accepting the gun. "I know Lori doesn't like the idea of him having a gun, but he _needs_ to be able to protect himself."

Rick looked out at the land, lost in thought. Bella pushed, "We won't always be here for them. I know I wouldn't always be there for June. It's why I trained her. It's why she lived." Rick swung his head back to her, expression undiscernible.

She didn't need to mention Sophia. Bella was sure he was thinking about her just now.

Rick sighed. He gripped his hands hard against the railing, knuckles turning white. It took a while for him to respond. "I know that. I do." He shook his head. "I want to be there for Carl. In every second of the day, I want to be with him. But I can't. Not all the time. If anything ever happened to him, and I wasn't there, I would never forgive myself. By giving this gun, I'm admitting that to him."

Bella turned her hips, so that she also faced the farm. Together, they looked out at this sanctuary – the place they're trying to make home. "I had this problem with June. Hell, I still do. With just the two of us for those six, seven weeks alone, there was no way I'd bring her along with me with all of the shit I had to do – with all of the people I knew were out there. Every second away from her was a risk, but in the long run, I knew it was the right choice and so does she."

Sighing, she felt a breeze hit her face – cold, in the shade away from the sun. "You have to trust that Carl does too. You are carrying a huge responsibility, and he sees that." Looking at Rick's unconfident face, she pressed on. "He does. It's why he wanted to kill that walker. It's why he said he'd have shot Sophia. He wants to take some of that burden off of you. Let him. I'm not saying put him on guard duty but teach him enough that he can stand on his own. He needs his father to show him the way."

"I will," nodded Rick. He gestured out at the land. "But when should it stop? It pains me to know that Carl will have to kill to survive this world. Is there a point to preserving their innocence, when we know that it'll be snuffed out one day?"

Bella bit her lip. Tapping her gloved finger, she sighed. "I don't know. We can only do our best to teach them that there is still good out there. There are still flowers blooming. There's still laughter. Still home-cooked meals with a group of people, who, in the end, cares for one another. Still _good_ , kind people out there."

Rick gave a low chuckle. "You really still believe that? After those two men tried shooting at y'all at the bar? After those men threatened you at the water tower?"

She smiled, a small quirk of the lips. "I met you and Daryl, didn't I? Granted, Daryl doesn't seem so thrilled by that right now, but you guys were the first truly _good_ people I've met since the turn. It was why I gave the men at the bar a chance to begin with. There might be less now, but people like you guys still exist."

The two stood like that for a bit, contemplating their heavy discussion.

When Rick spoke next, it shocked her to her core. "Lori's pregnant."  
She gaped at the man. His knuckles were as white as the railing he was gripping. She had to process that for a bit before she gave a tentative smile to the obviously agitated Rick. "Congratulations," she offered. Rick stiffly nodded, still not looking over. Frowning, she said, "You know, with all of us, that baby is going to have like a dozen bodyguards, right? Especially with this farm and Hershel. It's the best chance a baby has in a world like this."

Rick sighed. "I know. But that's only if Hershel is with us. If we can convince him to allow us to stay. There are some people here that is making this incredibly difficult."  
Humoring him, she asked, eyebrow raised, "Who could that be?"

A weak smile appeared on his face. But the next thing he said was perhaps even more shocking. "The baby might be Shane's."

Christ. Bella floundered a bit, struggling on what to say to that. She didn't ask for this – to be thrown into some weird apocalyptic family drama. She was surprised that Rick even decided to tell her.

A bit regretful on coming here, she tried not to be a terrible human being and say something comforting. But all that came out was, "And if it is?"

Rick shook his head. Sounding the most confident he's been in this whole conversation, he said, "It's mine. No matter what."

"Then," Bella said slowly, a small smile creeping on her face. "Congratulations. This baby is going to have a kickass father – I can see it."

He sent her a small, grateful smile. Rick broke the amiable silence, with a small, amused shake of the head. "Is there any reason why Daryl's acting like you just shot him with his own crossbow?"

Bella scowled, her mood immediately souring. "Rick, we were having such a nice talk."

She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed Daryl's gun and began to walk down the steps.

"Try to get him to leave his camp when you get there," Rick called out to her retreating figure, already guessing where she was heading. Not turning around, she flipped him off.

* * *

Bella finally reached her destination: the den of the very hostile, very stubborn Daryl Dixon. The man of residence was diligently ignoring her sharp gaze and instead seemed to have decided that his bolts required more attention. He certainly had enough for the moment, but he appeared to have suddenly thought that he needed to make more. This being the first time she's been at his campsite, her eyes scanned around. She picked up on his string of squirrel skins and walker ears.

She took her time perusing his space, pettily knowing that it would tick him off. When she finished, she stood in a few feet in front of him, arms crossed. When Daryl didn't look up, she scowled. So fucking juvenile. Deciding to be the bigger of the two, she sat on a rock next to him.

It wasn't until she set his glock beside him that he stopped his persistent carving. Still, he refused to look at her and instead stared at the gun suspiciously. Bella breathed in, repressing her sigh of exasperation. She took the first step, so she waited for him to join her.

"Why the hell do you have m'gun?"

Bella forced herself to think about positive thoughts – June, cool rocks, her favorite piano piece. She forced herself not to correct him in saying that it was, technically, _her_ gun. Instead, she said in what she was hoping was a calm tone, but probably came out more flat than anything, "Carl took it."

He looked up at her, eyes narrowed. He's going to need a haircut soon. "How come?" His words were short and direct. It annoyed her to no end.

Bella sighed, leaning back against the tree. She looked up at the leaves, noting that they'll soon blow away. "Long, long story. But he gave it to me and asked me to give it back to you."

Daryl shifted beside her, before saying impatiently, "Why are you still here then? You did what you came for."

She shot him a nasty look. His legs were bent up, allowing him to work with the pieces of his bolts that he was putting together, and his elbows were braced on his thighs. He was looking at her with an ill-hidden irked expression. She could tell he was annoyed by the way he was outright glaring at her. "Because _you_ have been moping here for a good week. Because _you_ have been giving me the side-eye ever since the bar. And _I_ am absolutely sick of it."

He stood up and strode to the dead firepit before facing her. It gave him distance, and if there was anything Bella knew about Daryl, it's that he loved his distance.

"Why the hell do you even care?" He practically growled at her. He swung his arm angrily towards the farmhouse, his unfinished bolt still in his hand. "Don't you have somewhere to run away to? Unless you've finally decided to stay with your girl?"

Bella gaped at him. She pointed at him with as much ferocity as she could convey in her finger. "Are you shitting me? You think I just run away?"

He paced in front of her, his narrowed eyes never leaving hers. It forced her to move her head to maintain eye-contact, and she hated it. "I know you do. Runnin' off to that bar without a backwards glance. Left behind your little girl who had to come up to me to fix her problems. Came up askin' me to find you."

Daryl scoffed derisively. "I was done lookin' for people. But then _you_ had to become _my_ problem." He threw his bolt down. Idiot. "I had to try to come out lookin' for _you_."

Bella glared daggers at him. "No, you didn't have to because I can handle myself. I was _fine_."

Daryl sneered at her before stopping in front of her, causing her to have to look up at him. He began to mock her. "You tellin' me gettin' shot at is just fine to you? That bein' in a shoot-out is just _fine_?"

Bella thought about kicking his legs out from underneath him. It would be satisfying and poetic-justice for him to land on his ass. Instead, she shot out his own question at him, just as mockingly. "Why the hell do you even care?"

She stood up close to him, refusing to back away. "I go out and do what needs to be done. I went to get Hershel because I _knew_ I could, and, guess what? I did."

She could feel his hot exhale as he breathed out at her, his steely eyes cold. "You really must get off on this death wish you have. First at the water tower, and now this? Either you get off on that or by running off to prove you can handle yourself. After being alone for most of your life, it's no wonder you're like this."

Bella flinched at his crass, harsh words. Breathing heavily, she violently pushed him back. "You are such a fucking hypocrite."

He bristled at that, but she continued drilling into him. "You're grilling me for running off by myself but look at you. You're over here living like a freaking lone wolf saying you don't need anybody. You keep putting on this shitty attitude, when you're really beating yourself up about Sophia and Merle."

Daryl looked positively livid. But she refused to stop now. She jabbed at his chest. She might as well as poke a bear in its eye. "So now you start pissing on anything that gets you worked up. Dumping shit on me about being left behind. Well, fuck that. Besides June, I don't answer to anybody in this shit world – especially you, Daryl Dixon."

Bella spun on her heels and began to march toward the farm. Suddenly, she stopped and pivoted back. She flung something red at his chest. It was his bandana, the one he gave to Bella after he caused her to cut herself against the Cherokee rose's thorns. Casting one last scathing look back, she stalked away without a word.


	20. Judge, Jury, and Executioner

Daryl was practically shaking with rage. He was heaving air into his lungs, one hand clenched onto his bandana. Swinging his head like a lion, he paced restlessly around his campsite. Often shooting daggers at the farmhouse, he refused to look down at where Bella had sat. This whole place felt tainted.

Feeling like a madman, he considered going into the forest to find a walker – _anything_ for him to confront. His infamous volatile and raging nature was making its way to the surface, and he needed to blow off steam. Daryl would say to do so before he'd do anything he'd regret, but he would also say that it's too late for that.

As if in response to his blatant hostility, Daryl could see Rick and Shane driving up to him before slowing to a stop. They probably had just come back from dropping that kid off. Shane, who sat in the back, was covered in blood when he opened the back door. "C'mon. We got things to take care of."  
Without a word, Daryl jumped in, refusing to look back at the red scrap of cloth that was fluttering softly to the ground.

* * *

Daryl landed another solid punch to the kid's – no, _man's_ – temple. Randall fell over, groaning, struggling to find solid ground with his arms tied behind his back. Daryl flexed his hands, feeling the sting of broken skin on his knuckles. His eyes never left Randall's. Hearing him crying out angered him even more. Daryl lunged in, landing another a blow. And then another.

All the while, his hand screamed for relief, but he buried it – along with the image of green-eyes looking at him in disapproval.

From the moment Daryl had entered the barn with this Randall in tow, Daryl had felt strangely calm. But the more Randall fought against him, the more his blood boiled.

"I told you," Randall gasped, wheezing. He spat out some blood onto the floor.

Daryl grabbed onto the man's shirt collar, throwing him back up against the wall. "You told me shit," he growled.

"I barely knew those guys," Randall cried out, his voice still seemed like it had some maturing to do. "I just – just met 'em on the road."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at him, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. "How many in your group?"

Randall shook his head weakly, his breaths short and quick. Daryl's blood raced. He slowly pulled out his hunting knife, much to the fear of Randall's, who began to beg. "No, no, no. C'mon, man." As if they were comrades.

Body tense like a coil, Daryl suddenly lunged forward. With an accuracy that only experience with a knife could acquire, he stabbed the knife into the ground, just a brush away from Randall's thigh. Ignoring the man's yelp, Daryl got up to his face and hissed, " _How many?"_

Randall's voice seeped with desperation and fear as he yelled out, "Thirty. Thirty guys."

"Where?" Daryl barked.

"I don't – I don't know," Randall gasped, blood trickling down his chin.

Daryl callously ripped off Randall's bandage, revealing a still fresh wound. It had scabbed over around the edges, but the middle still oozed with blood. The skin around it was an angry, hot red.

Randall attempted to move away, but Daryl's hard grip made his efforts futile. "I don't know. I swear," he screamed. "We were never in the same place for more than a night."

Centering himself, Daryl still snarled at Randall, more for the boy than for him. "Scoutin'? Plannin' on stayin' local?"

Randall shook his head desperately. "I don't know, man."  
Daryl scowled at him. Looking at Randall dead in the eye, he began to drag the knife's tip along his wound, hard enough so it'll sting. "You ever pick off a scab?" He ignored Randall's pleas and continues to speak slowly, calmly. "You start off real slow, at first. But sooner or later, you're goin' to have to rip it off." Daryl presses the point against the fresh, bleeding part of his wound, hard.

"Okay," Randall shrieked. The boy tried to calm himself down. "They got heavy stuff, automatics." Daryl pressed harder. "But I swear, I didn't do anything!"

Daryl held onto his leg tighter. Glaring at Randall, he growled, "Your boys shot at my people. Would've shot them dead and taken this farm – and you're sayin' you just went along for the ride? You tryin' to tell me you're innocent?"

"Yes," the kid screamed. He began to heave. "These people, they just took me in. They ain't just men – they got women, kids." Daryl stood up, knife clenched in his hand. He began to pace in front of the kid as he continued to talk. "But we go out and scavenge – just the men."

Randall shook his head. "One night we find this campsite. A man and his two daughters – real young and cute. Teenagers, ya know?" Daryl felt like ice had just shot up his spine. He slowly turned around, feeling a dangerous calm settle over him "Their daddy had to watch as these guys-" Randall broke off, shuddering. "And they didn't even kill him afterwards. Just made him watch and left him there."

Randall looked up. Daryl didn't know what he saw, but it scared the boy. Randall started begging. "Please, man. I ain't like that." Daryl brutally kicked him in the side.

Still, the kid kept talking. Tears streaming down his face, he pleaded, "I swear. I ain't like that."  
But his words turned into cries as Daryl continued to kick him, over and over again.

* * *

Daryl felt drained as soon as he left the barn. He took his time walking back to the campsite where everyone else was gathered. He focused on the ground beneath him and the steps he took. Before, his body surged with heat – blood racing and heart pounding. He could hardly think straight. But now, with just a stinging ache in his hands, Daryl was just left with a shell of that rage.

When he reached the campsite, everyone stared at him. He felt the looks – her look – focused on his hands, knuckles bloody and beaten. Daryl couldn't help but relish in it – he didn't even try to hide them. This was who he is. He was screwed up, and that isn't anyone else's business but his. Still, he refused to look over in her direction.

"Boy said they got about thirty men. Heavy artillery – automatic. They roll in here, then our boys are dead. Our women-" Daryl shifted, hefting up his crossbow. "-they gonna wish they were."

The group reacted to that information. He saw them look around, fear and worry on their faces. His knuckles were forgotten to everyone. Typical – they frown and pout about something until it gives them answers. Then, it's all good. Everyone, except for _her_.

"What did you do?" Her voice broke out, automatically putting him on edge. It was casual, but he felt the challenge there. Settling back on his heels, he briefly glanced at her. She was leaning against the tree with June sitting at her feet. Half of her hair was tied back, revealing her infuriatingly stony, impassive expression. Eyes a bit too wide, head cocked, and one eyebrow slightly raised.

His hand clenched on his crossbow's strap. Probably making the wounds more obvious, but he didn't care. "Had myself a little chat."

It was petty, but he couldn't help but feel satisfied when a scowl broke her blank expression. Her lips pursed in disapproval as she looked towards Rick who said, "No one goes near this guy." He shook his head, thumbs hooked against the loops of his jeans. "He's a threat. And we have to eliminate the threat."

Dale stepped up, infuriated. His eyes were blown wide and eyebrows shot up to his hat. "You're saying you're just going to kill him?"

Rick refused to look at him, instead speaking to everyone in the clearing, he said, "We'll do it tonight. It has to be done." He spoke loudly and clearly, as if trying to speak with conviction. Rick walked away, his gait even more pronounced with his hand on his holster. The old man chased after him, clearly hell-bent on making his obvious disagreement known.

The low, rolling thunder that followed made Daryl suddenly aware of the grey skies. Squinting up, Daryl decided it was time to leave. He had to get his place ready, and he sure as hell didn't plan on sticking around _her_ for too long.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the woman he had been very much hoping to avoid for as long as possible apparently had decided to come antagonize him even more. He could see her chestnut brown leather jacket and her inky black hair billowing in the wind. Her head was looking down, bracing herself against the powerful gusts. Scowling, Daryl dropped his lit cigarette to the ground before stomping it out. He squinted up at the sky. The storm was picking up, but the clouds didn't appear to be that dense. It shouldn't be a bad one.

Daryl continued to walk around his campsite to sort out which equipment he should bring into his tent. He decided not to simply ignore her like last time she came, but instead grunted out a short, "What?"

Bella stood a few feet before him, arms crossed. Her eyebrows were furrowed, but her eyes scanned his face, looking for something. She didn't appear outwardly angry, but he knew this lady could explode quicker than he could let loose a bolt. But then again, so could he.

"Are you satisfied?" Her voice was low and withering, her eyes just as scathing.

After having that explosive exchange earlier, neither of them seems to be particularly ready for another one. Instead of the two trying to outdo one another with yelling and pushing, they both stood eerily still. Taut like a string of a bow, they stood tense for the other's words. Their voices were low and direct – very different from their reckless and fiery nature from before.

"What're you talkin' about?" A long, low rumble resonated throughout the farm. They both ignored it.

She scowled. She looked out to the forest, anything but him, before saying, "Can't hit a woman, so you decide to beat up that boy?"

She was making it very hard for Daryl to keep it in. He resisted the urge to clench his hands, knowing it wouldn't help his case. "What do you want from me? I did that to protect the group – Carl, June, _you_. I'm just doin' the necessary dirty work when no one else steps up."

"'Necessary?'" She echoed incredulously. "We already knew the boy stuck around with some bad people. We didn't need to do any of that."

Daryl couldn't stay still any more. He turned around and walked a few steps to the tree. Bracing himself with a hand against the trunk, he breathed in deeply, willing himself to calm down. "Don't put this all on me. Rick and Shane practically rolled up askin' me to do it. They knew I could do it because I could do what needs to be done – for all of us. I ain't ashamed about that."

She just couldn't stay put, could she? Instead, he could hear her walk straight up to him. Leaning against the tree, she looked up at him, eyes wide. Her green somber eyes stared into his beseechingly. "But _torture_?"

"Knowing your record, if it was up to you, that boy would be dead right now. Better to have a couple of bruises than to end up number thirteen on your list." He may didn't have enough energy to shout at her, but he was damn well not going to let her leave this unscathed.

The change was immediate. Looking down at her, hand still braced against the tree, he could practically see her close herself off. Eyes shut, Bella looked away from him, collecting herself and her thoughts. Her lips pressed in a line, she shook her head. "It is not the same and you know it."

Daryl scoffed. "It's been – what? – less than three months since the turn. And you've already reached your lucky twelve. One kill a week."

When her eyes met his, he suddenly thought about how _tired_ she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes and the pale, grey light made her look almost gaunt. "I do not feel guilt over their deaths. And don't you dare try to put it on me. I killed those men because they were going to kill me. They either shot at or attacked me, and if I didn't do what I did, I wouldn't be here right now." Daryl's hand clenched. He forced himself to look away from her. "I will fight to live. For June. And I won't regret what I have to do to be there for her."

Daryl vaguely felt a drop of water land on his hand. He watches as the raindrop trickled down from his knuckle, coming out a pale pink. Another drop joined it.

"I don't know what's going on with you. You've earned your place, but you act like the world's against you. Accept that you are here, _with us._ You need to sort it out yourself."

It wasn't until Daryl couldn't hear her footsteps that he looked up. He saw her figure in the distance, blurred against the slanting rain. Not slowing down or stopping, she walked straight, unyielding to its force.

The storm had passed through relatively quickly. Within a few hours, the blue sky was already creeping out. The sun shown on the now sparkling and wet land, causing everything to look much more vibrant than before.

Daryl saw Dale approaching, much to his consternation. But better than it being Bella. He still didn't know what to think of these disagreements they keep having. They spoke more today than they had all week. But, to be quite honest, he's had enough of her visits.

Daryl was squatting over the half dozen bolts he'd made. Reaching out to compare them with one another, he set aside those that could still use some adjustments - whether it be weight, thickness, or height. As he inspected two bolts, he heard Dale finally approach him.

"Y'know," Daryl said, squinting at the bolts' points. "The whole point of me bein' here was to get away from you people."

"Gonna take more than that," Dale chuckled as he tossed a stick into Daryl's pile. Daryl eyed it.

"Bella sent you?" Daryl muttered, still refusing to look up at Dale. He tensed waiting for Dale's swift reply.

"She's not the only one that's concerned about you." Daryl rolled his eyes. He tossed one of the bolts in the reject pile before grabbing another one as Dale continued, "Or your new role in the group."

Daryl scowled, looking up at Dale. "Oh, man. I don't need my head shrunk. Bella already took her shot. This group is broken." He picked out the best three, setting them to the side. "I'm better fendin' for myself."

Daryl could never take this man seriously. Fishing hat and tourist shirt – he looked like a damn cartoon. Dale raised his eyebrows. "You act like you don't care."

Daryl stood up and grabbed his jacket and leather vest from a tree branch. Shrugging them on, he looked at Dale. "Yeah. It's 'cause I don't.

"Live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall? Because if you don't, then try to save the kid's life. If it won't really matter one way or the other?"

Daryl scoffed. Concerned, his ass. Old man came here for another agenda. "Didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch."

Dale looked at him seriously. "Your opinion matters." Daryl shook his head.

"Nobody is lookin' at me for nothin.'" He grabbed his crossbow and bolts and began to head to the forest.

But Dale kept on coming. "Bella is." Daryl couldn't go an hour without hearing her name. "I am. Right now." Sighing, Daryl turned around to face him. "And you obviously have Rick's ear."

Daryl's hand squeezed his crossbow's strap. "Bella made it very clear on what she thinks about my opinions. And Rick listens to no one but Shane. Let him," growled Daryl. He had enough of this. This whole thing is a mess. And none of his concern. He began, again, to stride away.

"You cared about what happened to Sophia. And June." Daryl stopped walking, eyes shut. Breathing heavily, he turned around. "You cared about what it meant to the group." Dale gestured wildly. "But torturing people? That isn't you. You are a _good_ man. So is Rick." Dale shook his head. "But Shane, on the other hand, is different."

Daryl walked up to Dale slowly, as if he was about to pounce. He spat, "Why? Cause he killed Otis?"

Dale's eyes widened, satisfying Daryl. "The guy tells some sob story about Otis saving his ass by covering for him, and then shows up with the dead guy's gun." Daryl shook his head. "Rick ain't stupid. If he doesn't know, it's because he doesn't want to."

He spun on his heels, only calling out, "Like I said, this group's broken."

* * *

Daryl heard it before he opened the door. Hand on the knob, he closed his eyes as he felt the dying sun's rays hit his back, spreading warmth along his body. The faint notes of a piano drifted towards him, and there was little doubt on who it was. Steeling himself, he slowly opened the door and slipped in.

Across from the doorway was the chestnut piano. He saw Bella and June sitting on the piano seat, back facing him. Bella's slim arms were held away from her body, as her fingers danced across the keys. Her damp hair hung loose down her back, briefly illuminated by the sun that snuck in as Daryl opened the door. June sat beside her mother, eyes curiously watching her movements.

Briefly glancing around, Daryl saw that most people were already sitting down, waiting. Listening. Rick and Shane weren't there yet, so Daryl assumed that's who they were waiting for. For now, however, everyone was attentive to Bella's performance.

Daryl was never particularly into music like she was. In a time where music still really existed, he liked listening to blaringly loud bands that drowned out all of the shit around him. But Bella's music seemed to make you _want_ to get closer and to hear her better. It seemed like it made people want to quiet down and settle back.

Her piece was almost solemn. Subtle. It mainly sounded low and deep, but it had lighter and melodic tones weaved through it. Almost hypnotic, it instilled a calm in Daryl that he hasn't felt in a long, long time. It reminded him of a simpler time. Like sitting down on his old childhood porch when it was raining. Away from everybody else, the stillness that came with being surrounded by the sound of rain was soothing.

Not solemn, decided Daryl. Nostalgic.

After the last note faded away, Rick, who appeared to have been waiting for her to finish, somberly stepped out from the kitchen space. Bella gently closed the lid over the keys before putting a hand on June's shoulder. Nodding her head toward the stairs, she made it clear she didn't want her daughter to be here for this.

June grimaced but stood up without complaint. As she passed Daryl, she flashed him a quick smile, surprising him. When she moved away, Bella and he made eye-contact. At that point, Glenn began to speak, causing them both to tear away and listen. "So how do we do this?"

Andrea looked around, reflecting how out of their depth they were at making a choice like this. "Does it have to be unanimous? Or majority rules?"

Rick shook his head, stepping up behind the couch. "How about we talk about where everyone stands. Then, we can discuss options."

Shane sniffed, settling back against the fireplace. "Well, from where I stand, there's only one clear choice."

Dale spoke out incredulously. His loud, passionate voice stood at ends with everybody's uncertainty and hesitation. "Killing him, right? Why bother to take a vote when it's clear where everybody stands, huh?"

Rick responded, "Well, if there's anyone against it, I want to know."  
Dale shook his head, dismayed. "It's a small group. Maybe just me and Glenn."

Glenn sighed, before looking up at Dale. Dale's eyes widened in disbelief. Scoffing, he said, "They've got you scared!"

Glenn spoke out, very different from the young man Daryl first met in the camp. "He's not one of us," he insisted, looking at Dale imploringly. "We've lost too many people already. He's not worth losing anymore."

Dale groaned. Looking at Maggie, he asked, "Are you okay with this?"

Maggie bit her lip. "Can't we just keep him prisoner?"

Daryl leaned against the wall, hands clasped together. "Just another mouth to feed. Especially with winter coming."

Lori offered, "We could ration better."

Dale took the opening. "This boy could become an asset. Put him to work and let him prove himself!"

Rick shook his head. "We can't just let him walk around. Nor put a guard on him 24/7. No one should be walking around with this guy."

"Say we let this guy work for us," stepped up Shane. He looked at everyone in the eyes as he spoke, instilling fear and worry. "He's nice, and we let out guard down. He runs off and bring back his thirty men."

Dale wasn't going to give up. "So, we charge him for a crime he might never commit? Just because we don't know what to do with him? If we do this, we are saying there is no hope. That the rule of law is dead and there's no more civilization."

Bella's soft voice spoke out for the first time. Although quiet, everyone listened. "He shot at us, Dale," she said, looking up at him. Still sitting in the chair, one of her hand was up at her throat, playing with her necklace. "He shot at _Glenn_. He would've shot us dead and driven off with those guys if he could've. As far as I can tell, he already committed a crime. He just didn't succeed. This isn't some random kid we picked up, so we shouldn't see him as such."

Patricia hesitantly asked, "If we do it, how would you do it?"

Dale wasn't having any of that. "Hold on a second. You're talking like we already have decided."

Voice low, Daryl said, "You've been talkin' all day." Ignoring Dale's incredulous, pleading look, he continued. "Going around in circles. You just wanna go around in circles again?"

Dale looked back at him before looking at Rick, eyes ablazed. "You _saved_ him. Then you tortured him and now we're going to execute him? His life is worth more than a five-minute conversation."

Before Rick could speak, Carol's shrill voice interrupted. "Stop it." Everyone looked at her, surprised. "Just stop it. I am sick of everybody fighting." Taking a deep breath, Carol's voice softened as she spoke to Rick. "You can't ask us to decide something like this. I didn't ask for this. Just decide – but leave me out of it."

Dale stepped forward challengingly. "Killing him yourself or not saying anything about it – it makes no difference." He looked around desperately, eyes blinking fast. "Anybody?"

When it was clear no one was going to step up, Dale began to march toward the door, distraught. But before he stepped out, he put a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "You're right," Dale said, before leaving the house. "This group is broken."

* * *

Daryl tied up the kid, ignoring his feeble yelps. As far as Daryl was concerned, this kid was the luckiest bastard alive. Randall should've been left for dead if it wasn't for Hershel. If what Rick said was right, Shane tried and failed at killing him when they went to drop him off. And now this boy just got let off the hook despite having the gun held up to his head.

Daryl stepped back when he finished, eyeing him up. The bright lantern casted an eerie glow on Randall's face, highlighting his still swollen lip and bruises. The kid continued whimpering, whipping his head around blindly, eyes still covered.

Daryl could do it. Just kill him. He thought about what Bella said, back in the farmhouse. Randall shot at them. He shot at her. Would've killed her and whoever else was there without a backward glance. And everyone had doubt on killing him because he was young? Shit, Daryl had to grow up himself when he was way younger than Randall.

Daryl gripped his hunting knife, eyes narrowed at the squalling boy. It would be quick, painless. It would get rid of this turmoil that's eating everybody up.

But before Daryl could make up his mind, the sound of screaming jarred him. The sheer desperation and fear that reached his ears told him that this wasn't simply a scare. Daryl lunged for the lantern before sprinting toward the sound, unsheathing his knife. The prolonged cries continued to fill up the air, and try as he might, Daryl couldn't see in the dark who or what it was.

The voice was male. And whoever it was, they were far out – up to the edge of the farm. He saw others running beside him toward the screams. It wasn't until Andrea screamed "Dale" that Daryl realized who it was.

The moonlight shone morbidly on the walker on top of Dale. Grey and ghastly, it was snarling at Dale, but Daryl could see that Dale was pushing it up, preventing it from biting him. Daryl pumped his legs even faster, knowing that Dale could still make it. Ignoring how the sharp cries soon turned into gurgling, Daryl threw himself at the walker, knocking it off of Dale. With a vicious swing, Daryl embedded the knife into the walker's head.

He immediately shot himself toward Dale. Lying on his back, abdomen torn open, the older man gazed at him with his eyes wide. He could hardly speak. Instead the pain and shock in his large eyes were what spoke volumes. Seeing Dale's shiny and scarlet innards was something that Daryl would never forget. "Hang in there, man."  
Daryl looked up to see lights flashing as the others ran toward them. Jumping up, he hollered at them, "Over here! Here!"

He first made out Bella and Rick. As they ran up to the two on the ground, Daryl could see the pure horror and alarm on their faces as they took in the scene. Rick stumbled before throwing himself at Dale's side. Bella let out a cry. Putting her hand to her mouth, she staggered to Dale. Sitting beside his head, Bella lightly shushed Dale, who was straining himself and gasping, trying to say words that wasn't possible. Daryl saw tears streaking down her face as she comfortingly rested Dale's head in her lap.

As the others caught up, Rick bent over the moaning Dale. "Get Hershel," he screamed. "He needs blood. We got to operate on him _now_."  
Daryl solemnly stood up, recognizing that it is what it is. Andrea took his place at Dale's side, sobbing. Bella continued to softly comfort Dale, who had begun to gasp like a fish out of water.

Rick continued to scream for Hershel, the desperation impossible to ignore. But when Hershel arrived, the look on his face was everything for Rick to know that Dale wasn't going to make it.

"No," screamed Rick. "No!" He crouched beside Dale, head in his hands.

Andrea put a hand on Dale's cheek. Tears quietly slipped down her face as she whimpered, "He's suffering." She began to cry harder. "Do something," she begged.

Daryl watched Rick as the man pulled out his pistol, face white in the moonlight. Daryl strode to Bella, putting a hand under her arm. "C'mon," he grunted to her. Bella looked up at him. She wasn't crying anymore, but he could see the shock in her eyes. He tugged on her, numb.

She let out a shuddered breath. Gently resting Dale's head on the grass, she allowed Daryl to heave her up. The two stood there as Rick stepped up, pointing the gun at Dale. His knuckles were white as his hand was clenched around his pistol. But Daryl could see the way his arm dips before lifting itself back up – the same way it did when Rick decided not to kill Randall.

Without a word, Daryl reached over and grabbed the gun from Rick. Daryl didn't look at Rick, but instead looked at his friend that he was about to kill. Daryl knelt down beside Dale, his hand never wavering. He cocked the gun. Looking at Dale's wide eyes, Daryl saw fear, pain, regret.

"Sorry, brother."

 _Crack_

* * *

He saw her up on the roof of the barn. Daryl could've kept walking, but after that night, he found that he didn't really want to be alone right now.

The sky had just begun to fill with light. Sun barely peaking over, the land was cast with a pale blue glow. The crisp, cool air felt moist and dewy – almost cleansing. He breathed in deeply, feeling more awake now than he has in a while. The gravel beneath his boots made a satisfying crunch with every step.

When Daryl reached the ladder, he tucked in the apple he had in his hands into his vest's pocket and began to climb. Feeling the cool, damp metal, he focused on making his way up.

As soon as his he was able to look over the roof at her, he saw with a surprise that she had her earbuds in. Hands in her own leather jacket's pockets, Bella sat on the edge of the roof with her legs dangling over. She also looked like she's been up for a while. She still wore her boots, jacket, and black jeans from last night. Her hair was half-tied up, blowing every now and then in the light breeze. But she looked at peace as she stared over the land.

Daryl wasn't sure if she knew he was there. He figured she would've heard him, but apparently, she's been listening to her music for the whole time. But when he sat heavily next to her, she hardly reacted. Instead, she casted him the same soft gaze she wore just now when she looked out towards the farm before turning her head back to the rising sun.

They didn't say anything. It wasn't a hostile or heavy silence, despite their antagonizing attitudes they had toward the other these past couple of days. After last night, it felt inconsequential.

Instead, Daryl took out the apple in the pocket and unsheathed his knife. He placed the apple between the two before cutting it in half. The juice trickled onto the wood. Silently, he offered one half to her. She took it graciously, nodding in thanks.

Bella took a few bites before removing an earbud. She spoke quietly, almost serene. "The first night June and I joined the group, I hardly slept." Daryl listened, looking out towards the scenery in front of them. "I stayed in the tent on watch for the whole night. I hadn't had a good sleep in days, but I refused to let my guard down." She nodded towards the blue, grey sky. "The next morning looked a lot like this. I came out and saw that Dale was still up on top of the RV, keeping watch. Besides you and Rick, he was the first person I talked to in the group."

Daryl looked at her, his part of the apple forgotten. She was looking down at her lap, watching as her hands lightly spun the apple in her palm. Sniffling, she continued. "After speaking to him for a solid hour, that was when I decided to stay. That you guys were good people. It was maybe too early to tell, but I felt better speaking to him. He got me to question the meaning of life in that hour." She snorted, slowly shaking her head. "The man really knew how to get under people's skins."

Daryl had never been good at this comforting gig. But to his relief, she didn't seem to expect or want any of that. She just sat there, heel kicking against the wall of the barn. He remembered how she would constantly sit exactly like this on the roof of the RV. Besides Dale. It was her way of mourning, he supposed.

Lost in thought, Bella didn't say much as the sun continued to rise. The pale pink changed into a soft orange. Daryl could hear the birds and insects starting to buzz louder.

Suddenly, the soft thumping of her heel stopped. "You good?"

Daryl looked at her, eyebrow raised. She was staring at him, expectantly. He thought that her eyes must've come from the forest, the way they blend in with the foliage behind her.

He knew what she was asking about. Impossible to be about anything else. Sighing, Daryl shrugged half-heartedly, voice thick. "Gotta be."

She squinted at him. Accepting that that was all he had to say on the matter, she looked back towards the land. Daryl could see some movement at the campsite. Dale's funeral still had to be done. Daryl realized he was awfully sick of them.

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit. But when Bella broke it with a sneeze, Daryl _looked_ at her. She had been sniffling every now and then, but he assumed it was just her getting emotional after talking about Dale. But she sniffled again, and he saw her red nose.

Daryl looked at her as if she had two heads. "You sick?"

She sneezed again.

It was just weird to see her in such a state. "How did that happen? It's hardly winter," he asked incredulously.

To his surprise, she shot him a reproachful look, but a half-smile ghosted her lips. "Got caught in the rain," she said meaningfully.

Remembering their last fight and her stalking off through the storm, Daryl snorted. He chuckled even more when Bella groaned, "Stop."  
Shaking his head, he realized that he had felt better than he had in a while. "Call that payback for laughin' about my itchy ass."

Her eyes sparkled as she bit her lip, trying to stop the grin that was threatening to break through. The two laughed softly, as the sun casted their shadows behind them, forgotten.

* * *

 **AN: in case you were wondering what piano piece Bella was playing in the farmhouse, I picked "September Song" by Agnes Obel :))**


	21. Better Angels

After Dale's funeral, Bella and June sat on top of the ledge of the red chevy's trunk, legs dangling as they listened to Rick and the others plan. Hershel, Maggie, Rick, Shane, and Daryl were gathered around Bella and June, weighing in on the current move. Bella's thumb rubbed against her bow string, feeling the strong and taut cord slung across her abdomen. She noted with relief that Daryl had packed his own stuff already, signaling he was going to join them back at the house and stop playing as Batman.

"Gonna be tight – the fourteen of us squeezed into one house," Rick warned.

Hershel sighed heavily, fingers looped around his suspenders. "Should've moved y'all in a long time ago. The swamp is hardening, and the creek is drying up."

Maggie cut in, hazel eyes serious. "And with fifty head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringing a damn dinner bell."

Rick nodded and began to scan his eyes around their campsite. The others have already begun packing and placing boxed and crates into the trunk Bella and June were sitting on. The two girls had already finished packing and placed everything they needed in the truck's bed. The chill from this morning still stuck around – enough that everyone was wearing a second layer of cover. It was a good thing that they decided to move into the house now – living outside or in the barn during the oncoming winter did not seem like the best idea.

"Alright," Rick called out. People slowed as Rick began to direct and assign jobs. Bella hoped off of the ledge, using the wheel below her as a step. She put her hand under June's elbow as she helped the younger girl come down. It was hardly necessary, since the soon-to-be fourteen-year-old was becoming as tall as Bella. It was disconcerting when Bella realized that June stood at her ear. "Move the vehicles near each of the doors. We'll build watch posts on top of the windmill and barn lost – that'll provide us a view from both sides of the property. Bella can be in charge of that."

Bella nodded in affirmation. The two girls began to help the others finish up. As Bella grabbed a box from Carol, she continued to listen.

"T-Dog." The man slowed down as Rick conducted, "I need you on perimeter around the house and keep track of everyone coming and going. You and Daryl are going to be on double duty."

"What about patrols?" Andrea came up with a bag of clothing.

"We'll get this place on lock down first. Afterwards, Shane will assign shifts, while Daryl and I will drop off Randall far from here."

June came up with the bags of guns slung around her shoulders. Bella lightly shifted the box in her arms. It was rather heavy, and it jangled with every movement she made – probably some cooking pans.

Glenn hopped into the truck with Shane and began to drive it toward the farmhouse with Bella, June, Hershel, and Rick trailing behind it, arms heavy and full. She heard the telltale roar of Daryl's motorcycle before she felt the air gust as he zoomed past them.

As the four walked in line, Hershel said to Rick, "I understand the calls you made about leaving Shane behind. But just know I have no patience regarding where he'd concerned."

Rick sighed, looking ahead at the red Chevy. "He's turning over a new leaf." Even Rick didn't sound convinced about his words.

Bella and June glanced at each other. Unknown to the two men next to them, Bella had told June about Shane and Otis. She remembered what Dale said about keeping the peace. While she didn't necessarily agree with it, she had to honor him somehow. Still, it doesn't mean she couldn't tell June, or keep an eye on Shane herself.

As if reading her mind, Rick turned to Bella, who was keeping in stride next to him. "Bella, while Daryl and I go drop off Randall, I'm going to need you to help Hershel keep an eye on things here."

She raised her eyebrow, shifting the weight of the box. "'Things?'" She kept it light-hearted, but she wanted to know the extent of Rick's attitude toward Shane.

Rick nodded, grey-blue eyes staring at the farmhouse intensely. "Shane's got a thing of letting things get out of hand. He likes to take charge, even if it means going against the whole group."

June snorted. "Gee. I haven't noticed."

Bella's lips quirked up as she playfully shoved the girl. June flashed her dimples at the group, automatically lightening the tense mood.

Rick chuckled, as Bella responded, "Sure. But don't expect me to be gentle with the guy."

Hershel nodded approvingly. "If you all are staying here permanently, he's got to understand that whatever Rick and I say goes. He can't keep running around doing whatever he likes."

Bella nodded thoughtfully, tucking her side bangs behind her ear. Her ponytail moved with her movement, as she said, "I'll assign jobs for the others when you are gone and keep Shane busy. Put somebody with him, too. But you should also try asking Andrea about Shane – they've gotten pretty close recently."

"Will do," said Rick. They approached the white wooden steps as he continued, "Keep an eye on things while I'm gone. I trust you to make sure that hell won't break loose."

She gave him a thumbs up. "Will do, boss."

* * *

"So, will you teach me how to drive?"

Bella stopped as she bent down to the pile of excess wood. Hand frozen while outstretched toward one plank, she stared at June is disbelief. The girl blinked at her innocently, one board in her hands held up proudly, as if saying, "Look how helpful and good I'm being."

The mother squinted at her suspiciously. Bella slowly bent down, still not looking away from June. Almost theatrically, Bella analyzed June with obvious and pronounced distrust. Almost scandalized, she asked, "How come?"

"Well, why not?" June shrugged. "I already know how to shoot and kill walkers. What's the harm in learning how to drive?"

She had a point. Still, Bella grumbled, "Your _thirteen_. You probably can't even reach the pedals."

The two continued sorting through the pile of wood as they spoke. "I've seen people shorter than me drive," June insisted. "One day, I'm going to be taller than you."  
Bella dramatically staggered to the ground. "Goodness. Please let that day never come." June rolled her eyes, as her mother continued to obnoxiously avoid answering. "That would be the day my own child would look down upon me."

June snorted. "What's the worst thing that could come out of it? I'll sneak off to meet a boy? Come back home after curfew?"

"Yes," Bella said seriously, still kneeling over, as if recovering from a blow. June stuck out her tongue at her.

Bella returned one in kind as she stood back up. "Why the sudden curiosity anyway? Just feels wrong – I still feel like I'm supposed to go to the DPS with you to get your permit."

"You always say anything could happen," shrugged June. "What if I'm stranded and need a car? Then I gotta teach myself, and that would be a whole other problem."

Bella wrinkled her nose. She grabbed a plank as she said, "How about this? We wait until you are at _least_ fourteen. You're only thirteen – practically a fetus."

"Fine. But can you teach me how to hot wire a car then?"

"Oh, for the love of -" Bella broke off suddenly as she saw Carl walking by them. The fact that he was alone and despondently had his head down caught her attention.

June turned around to see Carl. She moved towards him, but Bella interrupted. "Hey, you stay here and finish sorting these out. Then _maybe_ I'll let you try driving to the windmill."

Bella was satisfied to still know that June could easily be tempted.

Running up to the kid, she called out, "Hey, Carl."

Carl stopped walking, but he didn't even glance up. Instead, he continued looking at his dusty sneakers. The brim of his hat blocked his face as she approached. "Carl, what's wrong."

When he didn't answer, she crouched down in front of him, gazing at his face. Looking pale and withdrawn, Bella was concerned to see that it looked as though he had been crying.

It didn't surprise her to see that. After all, Carl had run up with the others last night and saw Dale's final moments. Thankfully, June had stayed at the house and thus wasn't as affected as the rest of the group. She put a hand on his shoulder. "You want to talk about it?"

Carl blinked fast. Voice small, he asked, "You won't tell my parents?"

When Bella hesitated, she saw him prepare to bolt. Squeezing his shoulder firmly, she simply said, "Carl."

He inhaled deeply. "You remember that walker I found in the woods? The one that was stuck in the mud?"

Bella nodded slowly, eyes scanning his young face intensely. The words came out of his mouth rushed while he still refused to look up at her. "Well, I couldn't shoot it. But it was because it got loose and started coming after me. So, I ran away and left it behind."

Carl let out a shaky breath. "It was the same walker that killed Dale." He looked up at Bella, voice thick with guilt. "It's my fault that Dale died."  
Bella placed both of her hands on his shoulders. Squeezing gently, she said, "Hey. You can't think like that. This isn't on you, and his death was certainly not your fault."

Carl shook his head, eyes shut. "Carl, listen to me. That creek has been drying up – that walker would've gotten loose sooner or later. With or without you."

Biting her lip, she looked around the farm. "Had your father come to talk to you yesterday?"

He shook his head. "He said he wanted to meet with me, but then the whole Randall thing happened."

Bella sighed. "Promise me you won't walk around out here by yourself, okay? Stick with June and me for now, and we'll drop you back off at the house, or you can help the two of us. Deal?"

Carl nodded, and the two headed back to June, who sat smugly in the driver's seat. Bella groaned, as she saw June's head barely peaking over the steering wheel.

What should've been about a three-minute ride ended up being a solid twenty minutes. After many laughs and abrupt, jerky stops, Bella had finally decided to allow June to head to the windmill. Hand clenched on the emergency break, Bella nervously yelped, "Not too fast. Slow down."  
June rolled her eyes. "We are literally going 5 miles per hour."

Bella scowled. "That's five more than it should be if you asked me."

The kids laughed. Glancing at the side mirror on her side, Bella was relieved to see that Carl had lightened up. It was nice to know that kids will always enjoy reckless and dangerous adventures, whether they're living in an apocalypse or not.

Once they reached the windmill, June violently pressed on the breaks, causing the three to briefly jerk forward. After a near heart-attack that was caused by June forgetting to put the car into park after turning it off, Bella quickly grabbed the keys away from her.

"You kids get started on taking out the wood from the trunk. I'm going to head back to the farmhouse and grab some tools." Dale's tools. But she didn't mention that. Casting a suspicious "be good" to the kids, Bella trekked up to the house.

She saw Rick and Daryl standing at the porch, similar to yesterday morning. Except this time, Daryl didn't run away with his tail between his legs. He nodded at her in greeting before saying, "Surprised to see you guys made it to the windmill. Would've thought it would've taken y'all at least another day at the speed y'all were going."

Bella grimaced as she climbed up the steps. "With June's driving, be grateful I'm still even here." Standing next to Daryl, she peered over the map spread out on the table. Tilting her head, she asked, "You guys good to go?"

Rick nodded. "Carol's getting his provisions ready – enough to last him for a couple of days." He scratched his jaw before looking up at the two in front of him. "Do you two agree with this?"

Bella exchanged looks with Daryl, who was still bent over the table with hands gripping the edges. Bella slowly nodded. "I was for killing him." There wasn't a way to beat around the bush. "But, after last night, I'm not in the mood for any more deaths. Especially at our hands."

Daryl looked at Rick. "I'm just ready to get this kid out of sight. He ain't worth the stress or trouble for this group. Plus, I don't see you and I tradin' haymakers on the side of the road. Nobody would win that fight."

Bella fought to hide a smile as Rick looked a bit startled at that. It was clear that Rick had thought his and Shane's tense relationship was better hidden from the group. Maybe it was, but not for Daryl. As usual, Daryl said a lot without saying much. Something that Bella quite liked about him – unless it was being used against her.

Taking advantage of the pause in the conversation, she asked Rick, "Can I talk to you? It's about Carl."

Daryl pushed himself off the table. "Once Carol's done, I'll go with T-Dog to get Randall. We'll drive on up here to get you."

Rick hardly seemed to have heard him, as he looked intently at Bella for what she was about to say.

"Remember what I told you about Daryl's gun, and how Carl tried to shoot a walker but couldn't?"

Rick nodded slowly, jaw clenched.

"Well, apparently the walker got loose and came after him. He ran away, but the walker was still left alive. And -"

"- It was the walker that attacked Dale," finished Rick. Sighing heavily, he mimicked Daryl's earlier position. Hands gripping the edge of the table, he carried a weight on his shoulders as his head dipped down. "I'll get Lori to talk to him."

Bella frowned at him. "Look, I know it's been incredibly busy for you. But Carl needs his father to be there for him. He thinks he's responsible for the death of Dale, and he's still too frightened to carry a gun."

Rick shook his head. "I have to handle this Randall situation first."

Bella hesitated. "Just try not to keep putting it off. The longer you do, the more his guilt and this world will eat him up."

She started to walk down the steps. "I'll send Carl here. You don't have to say everything, but anything will do if it's coming from you."

* * *

June and Bella had climbed up the windmill, and, after leaning their body weight against the structure to balance themselves, had begun to create a platform where they could begin to take watch. Bella had brought along her music player to allow the both of them to listen. It felt good for the both of them to be high in the sky and singing purposely off-tune. It was like another day back at the water tower.

The two had only managed to nail down two boards before they saw movement centered around the barn. June had abruptly stopped singing – at the chorus, no less – and was staring at something behind Bella. Wrapping her arm along a beam, Bella twisted her body to see that people were running towards the barn – the same one Randall was kept at.

Immediately setting the hammer down on the partially made platform, Bella quickly began making her way down. Her feet hitting the ground, she called out a firm "stay here" before grabbing her bow and bolting towards the barn. But, to her exasperation, she heard June taking off after her.

Bella shouted, "What happened?" as they approached the barn. She saw its doors were wide open, and the group were gathered around it.

Glenn answered, "Randall's missing. We don't know for how long."

Bella casted a warning glance to June before entering the barn. She saw Rick, Daryl, and Hershel gathered around where Randall once sat.

"He must've slipped the cuffs," said Hershel, shaking his head.

Scanning the grimy handcuffs still locked around the pipe, Bella pointed and said, "His blood is still fresh – couldn't have been too long."

Rick stalked back outside, his gait more pronounced than ever. Hershel closed the doors behind them. "The door was still locked from the outside."

Everyone began to ask more questions, raising even more uncertainty. Daryl and Bella, without saying a word, began to scan the ground for any tracks that seemed out of place. But since the group had run in from different directions, it was hard to discern anything useful.

Bella's head snapped up as she heard Shane bellowing, "Rick! Rick!" He was storming across the field, seeming to have come from the forest. Blood was dripping down from a gash on the bridge of his nose. Infuriated, Shane strode with a violent intent.

"What happened?" called out Lori.

"He's armed! He's got my gun!" Bella instinctively pushed June behind her as she took in Shane's appearance and words. None of this seemed to have added up. "Little bastard snuck up on me and clocked me in the face."

This spurred Rick into action. With a voice that offered little room for argument, he commanded, "Glenn, T-Dog – get everybody back in the house. Bella, Daryl – come with us." He gestured at himself and Shane, already moving toward the forest. Bella pressed a kiss to June's head. The younger girl looked up at her, panicked.

Carol stepped up, her eyes wide with fear. "Just let him go. That was the plan wasn't it?"

Rick was practically seething. Body tense, he shot out, "Plan was to let him go far from here. Not at our front door step."

Bella made to move away, but June held on. Daryl, who was passing them, took in the situation. "She'll be with us. We won't let anythin' happen to her," he promised, looking at June. This seemed to appease her as she let go, albeit reluctantly.

Rick was already marching to the forest, calling out some last instructions. "Lock the doors. And stay put! Don't come out looking for us."

Bella and Daryl ran up to meet with the two other men. Bella swung her bow around and notched an arrow in. She hadn't had to use it in a while, but it was practically muscle memory. Bella noticed uneasily that the sun was already sinking. Soon, it'll be dark and make this search ten times more difficult. It was getting colder as the sky began to fade. Already, the ground was littered with fallen leaves, making every movement audible and pronounced. The air was relatively still, meaning any tracks shouldn't be too messed up at this point, but loose leaves were notoriously hard to track through,

As the four of them moved downhill, Shane led the way, saying, "I saw him head up through the trees this way before I blacked out. Not sure for how long."

Rick strode along with him, eyes scanning the trees. "Couldn't have gotten far. He's hobbled and exhausted."

"And armed. And desperate," added Bella warningly. Both very dangerous combinations.

"Yeah, well, so are we," muttered Daryl next to her.

Rick suddenly stopped, looking at the two of them. "Can you two track him?"

Bella frowned as Daryl said, "Nah. Can't see nothing." The two began to circle around, eyes intently grazing through every detail while at the same time trying to spot any disruption in the bigger picture.

Shane cut through, voice high and loud. "No point tracking him, alright? He went that way." Daryl and Bella didn't even look up. "We need to pair up and spread out to take him down – that's it."

Daryl spoke up, eyes narrowed. "Kid weighs a buck twenty-five soaking wet, and you say he just took you on?"

Shane glowered at him. "I say a rock evens the odd, don't you think?"

Rick cut in. "Enough. Bella and Daryl – you two start heading up the right flank. Me and Shane will take left."  
Bella snapped her head up. None of this felt right: walking around in the dark, losing the kid, following Shane's words. And now, Rick wants to split them up and go with Shane himself. That just sounded like a very bad idea, especially with Dale's words in mind. "You sure you want to split up?" Bella asked, green eyes staring intensely at Rick's, trying to convey a message.

Rick looked back at her before nodding slowly. He tossed a flashlight at Bella. "We'll be careful. Remember, Randall is not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other."

Bella casted an uneasy glance at Shane's retreating figure. Prompted by Daryl's light whistle, she reluctantly began to follow him and squash down her worry.

It made her cringe to hear how _loud_ they were traipsing through the forest. Not only could anything hear them from yards away, but they couldn't even hear anything over themselves. The constant rustling and slithering noises put her on edge, and she could tell it was the same for Daryl. He walked a bit in front, hands clenched on his crossbow. His head was ducked slightly, and his shoulders were tense.

Soon, they were blanketed by a blinding darkness. She could hardly see Daryl in front of her. The moon was full, but it did shit underneath the trees' foliage. Bella occasionally turned on her flashlight, creating a narrow, white beam. While it allowed them to see, it also acted as a beacon to their location. Randall, who probably didn't have a flashlight himself, could easily spot them from yards away and use his weapon without the two even seeing. She would turn it on to quickly scan the ground before turning it off.

Daryl let out an irritated huff. "This is pointless."

The two stopped as Bella turned her light back on. Their eyes immediately zeroed in on the perfectly untouched ground. "We could head back. Start from the beginning and find the tracks. I don't particularly trust Shane's word at the moment."  
To her surprise, Daryl didn't comment on the last thing she said. Instead, he grunted with agreement. "C'mon," he said, turning back around.

Once they reached the starting point, Bella handed the light to Daryl, and the two switched roles. They slowly covered the ground around it, before Daryl stopped suddenly. "There's two sets of tracks over here."  
Bella joined him, eyes squinting. "They're right on top of each other. And heading in a direction that's different than what Shane told us."

They slowly began to move to follow the tracks. Daryl led, eyes on the ground, while Bella acted as guard. Daryl muttered, "Shane must've followed Randall a lot longer than he had said.

A couple minutes later, Daryl slowed down. "A scuffle happened over here." He circled his light around to highlight where the leaves had been disturbed. Points where the ground peaked through indicated heavy falls. He pointed the beam around them. "There's fresh blood on this tree. Something happened."

"This is getting weird," murmured Bella. "We shouldn't have left Rick with Shane."

 _Snap_.

They both immediately crouched. Daryl yanked on Bella's elbow, and the two ducked behind a shrub. Arrow strung back, Bella cautiously peaked over the shrub towards the direction of the noise.

She saw a figure against the faint light, staggering through the trees. Bella gave two faint whistles, using their hunting code to signal a walker. The two watched it warily, as it obliviously lurched their way – probably attracted to the smell of the fresh blood on the tree.

At that point, something slammed against Bella's side, knocking her down. She let out a small shriek as she heard snarling inches away from her face. She had barely processed what was happening when she felt it suddenly get thrown off of her.

Walker Number Two was now lunging towards Daryl, who had used his body weight to throw them both away from her. He was using his arms to push against its chest. Knowing that Daryl was too close to the walker and not trusting herself to aim in the dark, Bella unsheathed her knife and sprung towards it. With a sickening crunch, her knife broke through its skull. She felt the cold, thick blood splatter on her as she yanked it back out. It fell limp between the two with a dull, anticlimactic thud.

Before they could even catch their breath, Bella's eyes widened as she cried out in warning. Daryl immediately spun around to be face-to-face with Walker Number One. As his flashlight hit its face, the two were both briefly stunned to see that it was Randall's. It was Randall's very unhappy, very deadly face.

It barely had the chance to growl at him before Daryl's knife had embedded itself between its eyes. Daryl brutally yanked it back out, causing blood to fly back against his face.

"Shit," he swore, a bit late. He breathed heavily as he swung his light around them, standing guard in case any more decide to visit.

Bella focused on leveling out her breathing and heart rate as she crouched beside Randall. Her eyes scanned his body before zoning in on his neck. "His neck's broken," she said, surprise evident in her voice.

She could practically hear the frown in his voice. "Well, this other walker here must've been what got him turned."  
Bella's eyebrows furrowed, never looking away from the body. She turned Randall over and began brushing her hands over him, lifting up his shirt. "I don't see any bite marks."

She looked up at Daryl, who had pointed the flashlight at her. She squinted, bringing her hand up to cover her eyes. "Ya sure?" He moved the light towards the body, scanning it himself.

Bella nodded, troubled. "He didn't get bit." The two looked at each other. "How can that be?"

Daryl didn't have an answer for that. "C'mon." He helped her up. "I have enough of runnin' around in this damn forest."


	22. Beside the Dying Fire

Daryl followed Bella as she sped through the door. She barely had stepped in before June had managed to half tackle her in a hug. Daryl slid past the two, eyes scanning everyone's faces in the living room.

He frowned. "Rick and Shane ain't back? We heard shots."

Lori anxiously paced along the room, one hand at her mouth. "Maybe they found Randall."

Arms still around her daughter, Bella responded, "We found him." June stepped back in surprise.

Daryl leaned against the couch, hand clutching his crossbow. "He's a walker."  
Hershel stood next to the window, occasionally checking through the curtains. "Did you find the walker that bit him?"

Daryl and Bella exchanged looks. They hardly understood the situation themselves. "The thing is," Bella said slowly, "He had no bites. His neck was broken."

"Maybe he fought back?"

Daryl shook his head. "Shane and Randall's tracks were right on top of each other, and Shane ain't no tracker. So, they were together."

Lori walked up to the two, her body tense and eyes wide. Her voice wavered as she put her hands on Bella and Daryl's arms. "Can you two please go out there and find them and figure out what's going on here."  
Bella nodded, as Daryl responded, "You got it."

The two walked back out the door, with Bella giving June another reassuring hug. But as soon as they did, they both froze.

The moonlight shone of the farm peacefully. It would've been like any other clear night, if it wasn't for the unnatural, stilted movements that contrasted sharply against the still scenery. Looking like ants against the dirt, dozens if not hundreds of walkers were stumbling their way across the field, heading directly to the farmhouse. They had already reached the barn and were parting around it like a river around a rock.

The others slowly moved in behind them, silent in shock as they gazed at the numerous walkers heading their way.

"Patricia," fiercely whispered Hershel first. "Kill the lights."  
"June, get the guns," directed Bella. Her eyes scanned the land, making sure the walkers were coming only from one direction. "Everyone prepare for a getaway and pack only the essentials."

Glenn asked, "Should we just go inside and hide? Maybe they'll just pass by like the herd from the highway."

Daryl shook his head. Bella and he stood against the railing, both still taking in the herd. "A herd that size will just rip down the whole house."

Lori rushed back outside, breathless. "Carl's gone."

That caused Daryl and Bella to whip around incredulously. Daryl could not believe the timing. " _What?"_

"He – He was upstairs. I can't find him anymore." She shook her head fiercely. Voice high, she said panickily, "I'm not leaving without my boy."  
"We won't," promised Carol vehemently. "Come on. I'll help you look."  
Bella swore next to him as the two women rushed back into the house. June hurried past them, dropping the two duffle bags onto the porch in the middle of everybody. June immediately went to Bella's side, who had squatted down and began to rummage through its contents.

Bella and June began passing out weapons to the group. Bella began speaking hurriedly to June, pressing a gun in her hands. "You stay here, alright? Always be with Lori or Carol. It's up to you to protect them."

Daryl frowned and said, "A herd that size – we won't be able to make much of a dent."

Hershel himself began to skillfully reload the rifle in his hands. Daryl had never seen Hershel shoot, and with his "no guns" policy, he assumed that the old man didn't even know how. But the calm surety in his movements said otherwise. "You can go if you want," he said seriously.

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. Hell, if it was up to him, they should be making a break using their cars while they still had the chance. "You gonna take 'em all on?"

"We have guns. We have cars." Hershel shut his rifle's chamber with a finality.

Bella spoke rushed, looking up at Daryl. Her green eyes now appeared almost black – her pupils were blown out. She appeared flush, and Daryl realized she was more than ready for this. With her wild, dark hair framing her face, she appeared almost feral. "We could use the cars and guns to drive them off of the land – lead them away like we did before."

Daryl knew what she was talking about, back when they had maneuvered that herd from when they first met. He looked at her riled-up state warily. "You serious?"

She nodded. Hershel cut in, conviction in his voice. His eyes never wavered as he said, "This is my farm. I'll die here."

Daryl knew that there was no convincing the two. Hopping over the porch railing, he conceded, "Alright. It's a good of a night as any."

The group soon rolled out: Daryl on his motorcycle, Glenn and Maggie in the Subaru, and T-Dog and Andrea in the truck with Bella riding out on its trunk. Daryl gripped onto his handlebars, briefly taking strength from Merle's bike. It roared powerfully and gave him the usual gratification on riding it.

As soon as they had left the farmhouse, Daryl saw the main barn go up flames. It shown as a beacon, drawing in the attention of everything – whether living or dead. Glowing brightly, it blanketed everything around it in light, thus offering more sightlines and a better chance of hitting a shot.

They circled around to the side fences of the land, only a couple of yards away from the barn itself. They drove back and forth along its side, shots ringing out every few seconds. Daryl would slow down and shoot until he would see walkers closing in.

While he couldn't feel the heat from the barn's fire, he noticed it wasn't as chilly anymore. But that could've easily been from the blood racing through his veins. Eyeing the inferno that was getting bigger by the minute, he rode toward the RV, pulling up to its window. He saw the donkey kid – Jimmy. "Hey, that might've been either Rick or Shane who set up the fire. They might still be in there, so drive up and around the barn."

It wasn't long until the walkers herded up along the fence, eventually breaking it down. Casting an eye around, he saw the Chevy truck heading toward the house. But walkers were between him and there, so Daryl kicked against the ground and began driving away on the dirt road.

Once he was far enough away, he settled back and almost morbidly watched the scene in front of him. The barn was almost entirely engulfed with flames. The silhouettes of walkers were illuminated as they lurched towards it with a singular fascination. Although it was the middle of the night, the whole farm was lit up as clear as day. The fire acted as their sun, glorious and bright.

Daryl should move to the house, but he saw headlights swinging around like crazy as the cars swerved along the land. He couldn't make out which cars or how many came out – nor could he particularly tell which direction they were going. But some sort of deep peace settled in him, as he stood almost entranced by the flames.

He was far enough that he couldn't hear any of the snarls or growls from the walkers. It was almost peaceful, hearing just the crickets and cicadas. But that was all shattered when he began hearing more pops coming from the house – gunshots.

Daryl had assumed everyone had already left, one way or the other. He thought about ignoring it. There were too many walkers from here to there. But it nagged at him, especially the not knowing of who it us.

It took him a split second to come to this conclusion, as he had soon jerked his bike into place and began to speed off towards the noise His single head beam weaved through the land, and he skillfully maneuvered his way to the house.

The loud, booming gunshots continued to erratically pierce the land. It wasn't long till he was able to pinpoint the source. To his frustration, yet somehow not to his surprise, he saw Bella standing on the white porch, determinedly and accurately shooting at any walker that came to close.

Not even slowing down, he roared over her racket. "The hell are you doin' here? C'mon!"

She continued shooting, a fierce expression on her face. She yelled, not even looking over. "June isn't here. Have you seen her?"

Daryl was soon forced to draw out his gun. He didn't know how many bullets he had left, but he knew it wasn't enough. "We have to go _now_. Girl probably made it out with the others."

"Have you seen her?" She sounded almost frantic as she yelled, but her aim never slipped.

His frustration had reached his limit. Heart pounding, Daryl took in the closing in walkers. He'd drag her away if he had to. "Bella, you better get your ass over here right now."

To Daryl's relief, she took a final shot before rushing down the steps. As soon as he felt her behind him and her hands grasping his vest, Daryl kicked off from the ground, narrowly evading reaching dead hands.

As he sped away, Daryl felt one of her arms tighten around his waist as she let go with her right hand. He was about to holler at her to just fucking _hold on_ , but she began shooting at walkers that strayed too close for her liking.

Even when the farm was out of sight, the infected seemed to be crawling around everywhere. Her gloved arm soon entered his sight, as she shot down those that were in front of them, blocking their way. Preventing them from lurching straight towards the bike, she would dispatch them from yards away, and Daryl would instinctively direct his bike around their bodies.

"The highway," she screamed over the wind. "We have to go there."  
It made sense, but it also sounded like the worst idea to Daryl. If the others made it out, they would head there. But it was also conveniently the direction where this huge ass herd came from.

Daryl didn't argue though and began following green faded signs that told them how to head to I-85.

Soon, the number of walkers in their path began to dwindle till there was hardly any at all. Bella had long discarded her gun and was holding on to Daryl as he sped towards the highway. The harsh glare of his beam prevented him from realizing immediately that the sky was beginning to lighten up. Hardly day yet, everything looked either black or a blue-grey.

Daryl almost jerked the motorcycle over when he felt her suddenly seize up and violently shudder. Before he could holler at her, she yelled a rather sheepish, "Sorry." To his exasperation and relief, he realized she simply sneezed.

She suddenly began to squeeze his arm. "There's somebody behind us."

It was hard to tell who it was since the car's headlights were blinding them. But they hadn't shot at them or tried running them off the road, so he figured it had to be one of theirs. He felt surprised at the relief that coursed through him.

As the sky began to lighten, it was soon clear that it was the green Subaru – Glenn and Maggie. Not long after, he saw the red Chevy cruising behind them also. Daryl couldn't help but give a small, unheard chuckle when he realized just how goddamn lucky they were for that.

The three vehicles soon reached the massive pileup, which looked relatively empty and untouched compared to the previous times they have been here. Daryl slowed till his motorcycle emitted a soft purr – a stark contrast to the roar he had been hearing. Everything seemed strangely quiet as he weaved through the still and quiet highway. He barely heard Bella behind him, but he felt her arms around his waist.

It wasn't long till they reached the car they had painted on with Sophia's message. Daryl immediately zoned in on the Cherokee. Standing around it was Hershel, Rick, and Carl. They just keep getting luckier, if you asked him.

The bike had barely stopped when he felt Bella suddenly lurch away from behind him. Feeling the cold air hit against his back, he looked around. To his relief, Daryl saw a small, slight figure jumping out from the Chevy and into Bella's arms. He saw June's telltale curly bun peeking out over Bella's shoulders.

Rick came over, relief evident on his face. He stretched out his hand to Daryl, who, after getting over his surprise, clasped it back. The others had been piling out of the cars, joyfully reuniting with separated family members.

But while so many of them were there, it was clear that their numbers were fewer than before.

"Is this it," asked Glenn, one arm behind Maggie. Everyone looked around anxiously, instinctively looking for who was missing.

"Shane?" Lori looked at Rick, who swallowed and shook his head. Shocked, Lori looked down at her feet, processing the information.

"What about Jimmy and Patricia," asked Hershel. Beth, who stood in her father's embrace tearfully shook her head.

"I had Patricia in my arms," the blonde said, voice wavering. "But they took her, daddy."

Rick sighed. "Jimmy and the RV got overrun. He didn't make it."

"Andrea?" Bella had spoken, arms around June. Her wavy hair was curled and sticking out in random places, an aftermath from the motorcycle ride.

Carol answered next to him, guilt on her face. "She saved me, and it looked like she got taken down."

Glenn took that leap of faith. "But we don't know for sure."  
Daryl had enough of losing anymore. Gripping on his handlebars, he said, "I can go take a look."  
But before he could kick off, Rick adamantly shook his head. "If she's alive, she won't be there now. We have to keep moving forward."

June spoke out, aghast. "We can't just leave her behind."  
"We have to." Rick sighed, fingers looped around his belt loops. "There are walkers crawling all over the place."  
Speak of the devil, the group noticed a lone walker stumbling its way toward them.

"I say head east," offered T-Dog.

"Should stay off the main roads. They all seem to be crawling with them," Bella said, gesturing at the walker. She swung her bow around and swiftly shot it down.

Rick nodded. "We need to conserve gas and take as few cars as possible." He looked around. "There's twelve of us. Maybe two cars and someone rides with Daryl."

Daryl looked at Bella, eyebrow raised. She shrugged, nodding as she yanked out her arrow from the walker's head.

"Alright," said Rick. "We ride till the light fades. The more distance we make from this place, the better."

He felt Bella settle in behind him and felt her hands clench onto his vest. Looking behind the two to make sure everybody else was ready to go, he met Bella's emerald eyes.

She smiled tiredly, face inches away from his. Her untamed, tangled hair looked ridiculous. "What a day, huh?"

Daryl snorted, before kicking off. "Just let me know when you get tired. Can't have you fallin' all over the place."

He felt more than heard her mumble in agreement.

* * *

They drove for hours and hours with few stops in between. Daryl was surprised that Bella held on for the whole day. When he asked her if she was good during one of their breaks, she nodded. "It's invigorating. Really wakes you up."

By the second break, however, it seemed she got bored of hearing the deafening roar of the wind and engine. Snatching away her iPod from the disgruntled June, Bella came up to the bike with her ear buds tucked in from the inside of her leather coat, snaking up to her ears. Her inky black hair was finally reigned back into a ponytail. She still wore her bow and quiver slung around her back.

When she gave him a thumbs up, he simply shook his head.  
When the sun sank just behind the tree line, Daryl heard honking from behind him. Pulling over to the side of the road, he kicked down his side stand before hopping off after Bella.

Rick and the others walked up to the front where Daryl and Bella stood. Gazing around at the trees, Daryl asked, "You out?"

Rick also scanned around them, wary of any walkers. "Running on fumes."

Maggie shook her head. "We can't just stay here. Glenn and I can head back and siphon some fuel."

Daryl noticed a difference in the way Rick directed. Now, eyes intense and dark, Rick spoke unyieldingly and commandingly, suggesting little room for argument. "No. We make a run in the morning."

"Spend the night here?" Carol looked at him in disbelief, arms hugging her sides.

"I'm freezing," shuddered June, shivering. Daryl moved to take off his jacket for the kid, but Bella had already shrugged her brown leather coat off. In nothing but a simple olive long-sleeved shirt, she didn't hesitate in giving it over. Ignoring June's refusal, she draped it over the girl's shoulders.

"We could build a fire. But if you go out lookin' for firewood, stay close," said Daryl. He picked up his crossbow from the back of his motorcycle. "Only got so many arrows. How we doin' with ammo?"

Rick paced along the road with a fierce intensity, eyes searching for something. "Not enough after last night." With a gun in hand, he faced the group. "We'll set up a perimeter. We'll find gas and supplies in the morning. After that, we'll keep pushing on."  
Daryl noticed the lack of location or goal provided. But Maggie cut in, hazel eyes wild and intense. "Glenn and I could go now."  
"No," practically growled Rick. Daryl squinted at him, the change in their leader much more apparent. "I know this looks bad, but we have to stay together. I wasn't sure if we'd find each other earlier, but we did. Let's keep it that way."

He paced the road again, while everybody else stood still, watching him. "There's gotta be a place to hold up for the night. Afterwards, we find not just a place to hole up, but to _live_ and fortify. Build a _life_ for each other."  
Rick looked almost mad as he stared them down, gun in hand. "I know it's out there. We just have to find it."

Carol comes up to Daryl, eyes wide and insistent. "Does this feel right to you?"

Before he could even process the question, Beth cuts in, asking Rick, "What if another group like Randall's come across us?"

Daryl steps forward, grateful for the distraction. "Y'know Bella and I found Randall, right?"

Bella from beside him adds, "He wasn't bit, but he had turned."

Lori looks at Rick imploringly, who had looked up at the sky. "Rick, what happened out there?"

"Shane killed Randall," stated Daryl, looking at Rick who was still avoiding eye-contact. "Just like he always wanted to. Maybe the herd got him?"

Rick stepped away, hand rubbing his temples. The group stopped moving as they took in Rick's agitation. Rick took a deep breath before responding, voice so low Daryl had to repeat it in his head. "We're all infected."

The silence was deafening. Horror and shock showed on the group's faces, as they took in Rick's words and solemn expression. Bella and June froze next to Daryl as he gripped his crossbow tight and let out an incredulous, " _What?"_

Rick clenched his jaw. "At the CDC, Jenner told me we all have it. When we die, we turn."

Feeling just anger at this shitty day and shitty situation, Daryl turned his back on Rick as he tried to process this information. But it added up about Randall. Maybe even Shane.

"You knew this whole time," hissed Bella. Daryl looked at her as she stepped up towards Rick, one arm wrapped around June. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Rick scoffed. "Would it have made a difference?" He looked at the others. "You've seen how unstable Jenner was. I didn't have any reason to believe him."  
Glenn stepped up besides Bella, indignant. His pale face stared unflinchingly at Rick's. "That is not your call. I stepped up and told everyone about the walkers in the barns for the _good of this group_."

"I thought it was best if people didn't know." Rick's voice was flat, his gaze even more so. Nobody spoke as Rick suddenly strode away, Lori not far behind him.

Daryl decided not to dwell on the news. It was shit, but it did nothing for them then and now. Hoisting up his crossbow, he headed toward the guardrail along the side of the rode. Scanning the trees, he kept watch.

Daryl glanced around and saw Bella and June had moved to lean along the rail a couple feet away. They were talking quietly and insistently, obviously debating in hushed tones. Bella had her shoulders on June while the younger girl appeared to be defending something. As he studied the two, he would see Bella occasionally sniffle or clear her throat.

Sighing, Daryl shrugged off his black leather jacket, leaving his vest on. He made his way over, eyes still on the forest.

"Here," he grunted at Bella. She stopped speaking in mid-sentence before blinking at the jacket and then Daryl, who was still studiously avoiding eye contact.

"I don't need it," she said dumbly, slight confusion etched on her face.

He looked at her thin shirt pointedly, before saying, "You're still sick. Don't need ya faintin' off of the bike tomorrow 'cause of a fever."

She still gaped at him, looking practically scandalized. "But what about you?"

Daryl sighed impatiently. "I'm wearing more than you. Just take the damn jacket – this ain't no wedding ring."

Bella scowled but took it from his hands. It was obviously too big for her. The sleeves engulfed her hands, and the jacket hung to the middle of her thighs. But it was better than nothing.

Satisfied, Daryl walked toward the other side of the road. It would be their luck for another herd to come traipsing through.

* * *

Later that night, the group was quietly huddled around the fire. Hardly anyone spoke, and when they did, it was to speak to someone beside them in low, incoherent voices. The chill that settled in that night was the coldest it's been. He ignored Bella's earlier insistence on taking his jacket back. Honestly, the flannel he wore was more than fine. He prodded a stick against the firewood, causing sparks to briefly fly out.

Carol sat between Daryl and Bella. Bella seemed distracted, staring into the fire. Head tilted, she seemed to be deep in thought. June was huddled against her side, head drowsily resting on her shoulder.

Carol was speaking adamantly to the two adults beside her, despite both of their obvious reluctance in saying anything in general. "We are not safe with him," she whispered. Daryl looked at her warily. "He kept something like that from us."

She continued speaking, this time looking at Bella and then Daryl. "Why do you guys need him?" Bella met her stare, though she was blinking as if coming out from a daze. Being sick and having have slept in over a day seemed to be doing a number on her. "He's just going to pull us down."

Daryl shook his head, brushing her off. "Nah. Rick's done alright by me."

Carol was persistent. "You're his henchman. I'm just a burden. You deserve better."  
Daryl scowled at her. "What do you want?"

He noticed that Bella was watching. Her senses seemed to have cleared, and she was gazing unblinkingly at the two. While her eyes never moved, the flicker of the flames casted movements upon them.

Carol bit her lip. "A man of honor."

Daryl scoffed. He had enough of her ramblings. Turning back to tend to the flames, he muttered, "Rick has honor."  
Carol turned to Bella. "And you? Do you feel safe here with your daughter?"

It was now Daryl's turn to stare. Bella looked taken aback by Carol's intensity. Bella frowned as she looked back into the fire thoughtfully, head tilted. She took a while to respond. "June and I already talked about this before Rick even told us." Daryl thought about the conversation they were having on the guardrail. "I told her that if she wanted, we could go back to the water tower." Daryl stiffened as he gazed at her incredulously. "It was up to her to decide. This is all for her," she echoed, saying the same thing from when Rick and Daryl offered the two of them to leave the water tower.

She looked at Carol and then Daryl. "She wanted to stay and hasn't changed her mind. I trust her decision."

Daryl clenched his jaw. Feeling simultaneously annoyed and relieved, he decided to not say anything. Instead, he jabbed at the fire again, causing it to violently flare up.

 _Snap_.

"What was that?"

Everybody tensed as Daryl shot up from his previous kneeling. His eyes scanned futilely into the dark woods.

"Could be anythin,'" replied Daryl. "A squirrel. A possum."  
"A walker," muttered Glenn.

Daryl saw movement. Recognizing Rick's low gait, he lowered his crossbow as Carol's shrill voice spoke out. "We need to leave. What are we waiting for?"

Most of the people in the group were standing, weapons up and at the ready. They stared at Rick, desperation and panic evident on their faces. The fire casted ghastly shadows around the floor around them, making the darkness even more disorienting.

Bella, however, didn't seem to have budged. She still was off in her world while June was sitting next to her, brown eyes warily joining the others in the search for the noise.

Rick, who still had dried blood along the side of the voice, muttered, "The last thing we need is everyone running off in the dark. No traveling on foot."  
 _Snap._

"I am not waiting for another herd to blow through," insisted Maggie.

Rick whirled around. The fire flickered shadows onto his face as he growled, "No one is going anywhere."

"Do _something,_ " begged Carol.

Something in Rick snapped. "I am doing something," he snarled. "I am keeping this group-" He gestured around at everybody with his gun. "-together, _alive_."  
Rick turned around, breathing heavily. He stalked around before violently hissing, "I didn't ask for _this_. I killed my best friend for you all for Christ's sake!"

At that, Bella finally looked up. Daryl couldn't decipher her expression, she just continued staring at Rick as he paced around, agitated and distraught. Everyone else gazed at him, shocked once again by his confessions.

"You saw what he was like," spat Rick, venom in his voice. "How he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us." Rick seemed to be directing this all at Lori, who avoided looking back at her husband. Carl was in her arms, sobbing. "He staged the whole Randall thing to get me out there, so he could kill me. He gave me no _choice._ He came after _me."_

Daryl studied Rick, who was gazing around at everybody's reactions. "Maybe you people are better off without me. I still believe there is something for us out there, but maybe I'm fooling myself again." He gestured behind him wildly. "Why don't you all go and find out for yourselves? See how you do, if you think you could do better. Let's see how long you last."

Looking at Bella, he saw that her eyebrows were furrowed. With a jolt, he thought she could be considering it.

"No takers? Fine," said Rick vehemently. Bella met Daryl's eyes. "But let's get one thing straight: If you stay, this isn't a democracy anymore."

* * *

 **AN: SO i unfortunately dropped my laptop way back in June, causing my screen to go haywire. AND since im heading back to college soon, I gotta go fix that now. I have to send my computer away, which is gonna take maybe 5-7 days, so, unfortunately, I won't be able to update till then.**

 **BUTTTT im already almost done with the next chapter, so once I get my computer it shouldnt be long.**

 **UNTIL THEN, have an AmAzInG week kids!**


	23. The First Winter

October

The group hardly spoke the day after the farm fell. Rick offered no words of encouragement, but instead directed the group on plans for the day. As he warned the night before, he gave orders without room for question or argument. The change was stark and obvious, but no one commented.

He had ultimately decided that they would need to split up since one car had no gas. Thus, Rick, Glenn, and Maggie would head back to the highway, while Bella, Daryl, and Hershel would stay behind to watch the rest of the group.

Ultimately, it was clear that the focus was protecting Lori and the kids. Despite June arguing to help watch, Bella refused to let her guard the camp. Instead, she appeased her daughter by saying that June has to be close to Lori, Carl, and Carol in case anything slips through.

That ended up with T-Dog, Hershel, Bella, and Daryl to form a makeshift perimeter. The former two took up the side closest to the highway, while the latter two faced the rest of the forest.

This meant that for the next hour, Bella sat on top of a short brick wall, hardly moving as she stared out into the trees lost in thought. She barely spoke and sat like a statue. Daryl wasn't far beside her. When he wasn't doing his usual pacing, he would either lean against a tree or sit with her, but only for a couple minutes at most. As time went by, it was very clear to Bella that Daryl did not like to just sit around.

It normally would've made her antsy, but in that moment, she would either block him out or follow his movement fixedly as he travels around the forest. It was almost amusing for her to watch.

There was hardly anything else to watch anyways. No one was speaking back at the camp, and they hadn't seen a single walker all morning. It would probably be like this for weeks, thought Bella. They'll drive around to who knows where and will have to set up watch every night. Daryl and she will need to start hunting again, but that will quickly become a struggle once winter fully kicks in.

She began to list everything they'll need to consider once that time would come – what animals will still be active, where they'll most likely be, and so forth – when Daryl had once again come back around to end up sitting on the brick wall next to her. The few times before when he would sit there, Bella could feel the impatience radiating off of him. He had wanted to go with Rick. He had volunteered.

But now, he was still. They both sat barely moving or speaking, seemingly lost in thought. Something was on his mind, and knowing Daryl, he probably wouldn't say a thing.

Bella was hardly an inquisitive person anyways. She didn't have the patience to badger for answers. If they don't want to say anything, then they don't have to. She won't ask. But when they do say something, she liked it when a person was direct and to the point. It was probably why she usually enjoyed talking to Daryl – at least when they are not fighting.

He was the first to speak, much to her surprise. But what surprised her even more was his question. His voice a rough, low rumble, Daryl asked, "If June were to suddenly decide she wanted to just leave, you would just go? Just like that?"

The sun was hitting the two, and it made his hair look almost blonde. It made him look younger. His blue eyes were a shade darker than Carl's, Bella noticed. "For June? I'll do anything. I'll never leave her behind."

A couple minutes later, Daryl asked one more question. "If you do leave, you ain't goin' to leave without tellin' anybody are you?"

Bella looked at him, taken-aback. "Why do you think I'm going to leave?"

He shrugged. "I don't. Just makin' sure."

A small half-smile appeared on Bella's face. She promised, "If I ever leave, I'll say so."

* * *

November

"I think it's a-" June hesitated, eyes squinting. She was squatting with her head only inches away from the ground. "Uh – well, maybe a beaver?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Kid, what would a beaver be doin' around here?"

June shrugged, her curls bouncing with the movement. "Y'know. Moving around town. Doing beaver things."

Daryl sighed exasperatingly. Now he knew why Bella insisted that Daryl would teach June how to track, and not her. Come to think about it, Bella had been laying on the flattery about his expertise kind of thick.

Feeling even more ruffled by the fact that he had been played, Daryl grumbled, "Beavers like to be around water. The closest stream is miles away."

"Hm." June looked at him unconvinced. "But the drag on the ground – could most definitely be a beaver. Maybe it got lost."

Daryl groaned, hefting his crossbow back around his back. It had only been an hour, and he was already contemplating heading back. But then, he thought about how he would never hear the end of it from Bella. "Think about it – even beavers have some sorta feet to leave a print onto soil. What leaves a continuous drag on the ground?"

They continued going back and forth fruitlessly for a bit – much to Daryl's consternation. Daryl spoke as if talking to a kindergartener ("What moves zig zag like that? What _slithers_?"), until he finally broke and told her it was a snake ("You sure it's not a beaver?"). While this whole experience tested his patience, June's quick and out of the box thinking kept things interesting.

June was good enough at recognizing tracks and spotting them out. She picked up on patterns and what the ground _should_ look like. It just happened she failed miserably at discerning what kind of animal it was and how long ago it came by.

While this acted as June's training, this was also a chance for the two to hunt as much as they can for the day. With winter practically here, they needed all the food they can get. Animals generally move around a lot less, making them easy to find once tracked, but hard to find the tracks at all in the first place. When the two would come across an animal, depending on its size either Daryl would shoot it with his crossbow or June would try pitching her knife into its body. Bella had recently taught June how to throw knives, something the younger girl picked up on pretty quickly.

A few hours later, they came across a fallen tree. June had briefly stilled in front of him, before quickly spinning around on her heels. She took in her surroundings with disbelief on her face.

"You good?" Daryl was used to June's erratic, if not weird, behavior. The kid could talk non-stop one day and then hardly say a word the next. When Bella and she are together, they could go from comfortable silence to breaking out in song within a minute. She was blunt and honest like her mother, something Daryl appreciated - at least, most of the time.

June suddenly pivoted her body toward the south direction, suddenly giving Daryl a sense of déjà vu. "I know where we are."

As June stood in the same spot from a few months ago, Daryl realized that she had the same intense look on her face from when she was waiting for Bella to come through the trees. This was the rendezvous point from when Bella basically kicked Daryl and Rick out of the water tower and threatened to castrate the two of them. Hard to forget.

June suddenly took off toward that direction, not even checking if Daryl was behind. Feeling rather bemused, Daryl strode up beside her and asked, "Why ya want to go back there?"

June shrugged. "Left some stuff behind that I'd want back."

He wanted to say no and emphasize that this was a waste of time. But he saw the determination on her face and decided to concede to the kid's choice. Strangely, he also had an urge to see where it all began.

It was bizarre to think that it only happened less than two months ago. So much has happened since then, and it felt like it has been a lot longer than that. The group's dynamic has evolved into something more cohesive and in sync. While it was still too early to tell, it seemed like everybody was toughening into something that they could use to thrive. No more just the guys running off toward battle and leaving the women behind. Those who didn't know before had begun learning to shoot, even Carl.

It was even stranger to think about how Daryl's only known Bella and June for two months. It felt a hell of a lot longer than that. The three tended to gravitate towards one another, forming a strange little unit. Maybe it was because Bella and Daryl often went off to hunt together or the fact that Bella usually rode with Daryl for most of the time. It became comfortable and easy, how much they relied and depended on each other.

When they broke through the forest edge, the water tower stood proudly on its four legs. It had rusted on the outside even more, but other than that, it outwardly appeared the same as before. It made Daryl uneasy to walk out in the open, just as it did those months ago. Remembering how Roy's group tried to ambush Bella here, Daryl's hand tensed on his crossbow. Although they were all dead, others might not be.

When they reached the ladder, June paused, one hand on a rung. She pointedly looked at him. "You can stay down here if you like."

She clearly remembered the last time he climbed up this damn ladder. Daryl scowled and, in response, shoved her to the side. "I'll go first," he grumbled.

Taking a deep breath, Daryl began the hundred-foot climb. As the ground became smaller and smaller, Daryl swore he would never agree to another outing with June again. This was the last straw, and he'd make sure Bella would never hear the end of it.

When his hand flattened itself against the walkway, Daryl let out a sigh of relief as he heaved himself over. He forced himself not to throw himself toward the tank. Instead, he reached down to hoist June up safely. As the two caught their breaths in the cold, stale air, the two scanned around them curiously.

Small, coin-sized dents littered the side of the tank, evidence of Bella's gunfight with Roy's men. High up near the top of the tank, there was a gaping hole where enough bullets managed to penetrate through the metal sheet.

Daryl took the lead to the little room along the walkway. Glass still littered the floor, remnants of the door's window that had been shot through. Peering in, he saw no signs of movement. He kicked the door in, crossbow raised. He scanned the room quickly before nodding to June to come in.

The sole window of the room had also been shot through, leaving the room vulnerable to the cold and the weather. There was little evidence of other people, but there were water stains. Even some bird shit on the floor. There was rust along most of the walls and ceiling.

June with a narrow focus began ransacking the room. She threw around items carelessly, obviously not treating the place with any sign of nostalgia.

Daryl's eyes squinted at the items. "What're ya even lookin' for?"

June didn't bother with a response. Instead, she pushed the man out of the way as she began looking around where he stood. Daryl scowled and leaned against the same wall he did from before.

June rummaged around the room, occasionally snatching something into her arms. Every step created a dull, metallic thud that resonated in the freezing room. It practically felt like a meat locker. When the wind picked up, a loud whistle would shriek through and cause a ripple of objects fluttering. Heights was truly something Daryl detested.

"You done?"

"Almost," June said, now rummaging through the cupboards. She carelessly tossed clothing, random tools, books, and more onto the floor, causing even more of a commotion.

Finally, she went up to Daryl with a wide grin stretched across her face. She held a few objects in her hands, which she proudly displayed with an "Aha!"

Daryl eyed them warily. In one hand, she held a black bracelet made of thin strips of leather braided together, a brown suede notebook, a large book, and a small string pouch. "What're those?"

"This," she pointed at the bracelet with her other hand, "was Bella's present to me a couple years ago. The notebook is my journal. The other is a photo album. And this," she held up the pouch, "is Bella's."

He squinted at the sack. The size of his palm, it seemed to be carrying several bulky objects. "What's in it?"

When June held it out, he could hear the dull, heavy clattering of the sound of dense items hitting each other. "Bella's kind of lame sometimes."

He grabbed it suspiciously, feeling the solid weight of its contents in its hand. The sack was made of a sturdy, soft fabric that had a leather cord cinched at the top. When he opened it, Daryl was absolutely bewildered when he saw what was inside. " _Rocks?_ "

June shrugged, a grimace on her face. "She's been whining about it for a while. She thinks they're cool. One of the only things she brought from home."

While Daryl shook his head in disbelief, June snatched it away and shoved the items into her pack. "Now time to climb down," chirped June. "Should be loads of fun."  
Daryl scowled. He was never doing this again.

* * *

December

"I am never doing this with you ever again."  
Daryl stared indignantly at the raven-haired woman sitting next to him. It was dark, so he could hardly see her face as she cautiously peaked her head over the market aisle. A sliver of light hit her eyes, revealing that she was squinting at the front of the store. "The hell you mean by that?"

Bella plopped back down, looking at Daryl accusingly. "This was _your_ idea."

It was hard to hear her over the persistent banging and thumping from the walkers that stood outside pressed against the huge windows. Their decayed and gory faces were smashed against the glass, teeth bared and chomping. It was only just a bit distracting.

" _My_ idea was to run into the cinema while you swing around and grab the car to lead 'em away. Not for you to go buck wild and drive _into_ the cinema."

The two jumped when they heard a rather extra-aggressive hit on the glass reverberating throughout the whole store. Daryl tightened his grip onto his crossbow while pulling out his gun from his waistband.

"Well, from the look of things, you clearly needed my help," Bella said stubbornly.

"Clearly, your help didn't do much for our asses."

The two were huddled behind the gluten-free and health benefits aisle, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder as they bickered about their precarious situation. Typically, most of the runs they've done together in the past had run smoothly. They usually got what they needed and would make it back swimmingly. But then again, a herd of angry and starving walkers weren't typically just around the corner. They had literally turned down the street and met dozens of walkers face-to-face. Since it was winter, walkers tended to move slower and were relatively quiet until they were provoked – much like they were now.

After they both agreed that this was a shit situation and that none of them deserved any blame, Bella asked, "Do you think the glass will hold?"

Daryl made a quick glance over the metal shelf. "It should. Walkers still move like sloths even now. They don't pack a punch in this state."

Bella scanned around the market. It was more of a corner store that probably still looked like crap even from before. "Might have to just wait it out. This place doesn't have any back exits from what I can see. Especially since it's getting dark – we might have to wait till tomorrow morning before we can do anything. At least this place still looks like it has a lot of stuff for us to bring back."

Daryl felt like ants were crawling all over his body. Heart still pounding from his sudden adrenaline rush, he did not feel like settling back down. It made him on edge to just sit here and wait. With the walkers banging on their front door, it hardly made him anymore excited to just lounge around.

But Bella seemed to have already forgotten about their little crowd of fans. Eyes squinting, she pushed herself up onto her feet, crouching. Before he could pull her back, she let out a quick, "I'll be back," before darting into the other aisle with bow in hand, away from his sight.

He took the chance to calm himself down, occasionally checking over the shelves to make sure there has been no change. There was hardly any light in the store, so the walkers should have difficulty seeing anything inside, especially with them dumb bodies blocking the moonlight from the outside. As long as the two didn't move around too much, it shouldn't be more than a couple of hours before them walkers get bored.

When Bella finally came back, she slid in next to him without much of a warning. Scowling at her, Daryl took in the bright red shopping basket that was filled to the brim. Bella began to unpack the items, revealing packs of cereal, couple of bags of chips, some candy, and two bright orange soda cans. "Fine dining," she said simply.

While the group still managed to find enough in the homes they would reside in, food was a constant source of pressure. Soon, it'll snow, and hunting would no longer be an option. What few canned and packaged foods they find, they store in the trunks of their cars for when they'll need them in the upcoming months.

Daryl unceremoniously swiped a bag of potato chips. He tore it open and began shoveling handfuls in his mouth. The salty, tangy flavor of processed foods was a new and welcoming taste. Bella, meanwhile, took a bright red packet of candy. She tore the pack of Twizzlers open, and after pulling out a single one, she began to chew on it contentedly. With it still in her mouth, she said, "This is some good shit."

Not bothering with a response, Daryl popped open a can and began to chug it down. The carbonated drink caused his eyes to water, but that didn't slow him down in the slightest. Wiping his mouth with his sleeved arm, Daryl set the mostly empty can down beside him, feeling satisfied in a way he hadn't felt in weeks.

He began to scan the other contents of the basket. Underneath the food, there were board games, comic books, and a deck of cards. In response to his raised eyebrow, Bella swallowed down her chewy candy before responding, "For the kids and even the group in general. They're already all getting bored, and they especially will be so once we hunker down with the snow."

Daryl pulled out a box, studying the garish cover. Bella peered over, her head almost knocking against the aisle. "You play?"

He snorted, hearing the pieces tumble around in the cardboard box. "My ma taught Merle and me how to play. Thought Chess would settle us down. Worked for a bit, but we still did our own thing."

Bella plucked the box from his hands and began to set the board up. "Well, we got a lot of time on our hands."

Soon, the pounding of walkers on the glass blended with the background. Daryl and Bella sat in the darkness, their pieces constantly shifting across the board. While neither were complete pros in the game, they both knew enough for the game to be rather enjoyable.

"I got trapped in a store before, just like this. Except I got stuck with some asshole."  
He raised an eyebrow. "This happened to you before?"

"Yeah. The man was a real piece of shit."

He planned on asking more, but Daryl frowned when Bella knocked over one of his black pawns with a knight. It tumbled with a dull clatter over the board before Bella, quite unnecessarily, flicked it off so that it skittered over the tile floor a few feet away. He scowled while Bella gave an innocent "oops."

It continued like that for the next few hours. They played leisurely, often taking breaks to indulge themselves on more snacks.

At one point, after Daryl had knocked over Bella's last rook, Bella glanced at her watch. She looked up, smiling at him. It threw him off, and he hesitated when he reached to move her piece off of the board.

Before he could ask, Bella showed him her watch.

 _12:03 AM_

"Merry Christmas, Daryl."  
He looked at her, surprised. She tilted her head and said, "I found a clock back there. I think it runs on batteries because it was still on and in sync with my watch. But it also told the date, and apparently, it is now December 25th."

Daryl had never been a big fan of Christmas. To him, it was just another day. Often alone, he felt little, if any, reason to celebrate. He would maybe go to a bar and get himself a drink. If he was with his brother, Merle would decide just to get piss drunk. He wasn't religious, and the idea of going the extra mile and doing all that festive shit had hardly any appeal to him.

But sitting with Bella in this dank, dingy market surrounded by creatures who wanted to devour and kill them gruesomely, with a chessboard and discarded plastic bags and cans scattered around them, he decided this was the first Christmas where it wasn't just another day.

"Merry Christmas, Bella."

* * *

January

June lifted one up at the window, using the sun to assess whether the stone was worthy. "This one isn't bad – it's got a lovely hue and an equally sterling personality."

Carl leaned over, his hat filling up the rearview mirror. "What about the darker one? It's got those cool, white veins-looking stuff on it."

June picked Carl's up. "Hm. Not bad." She then dropped it back into the reject pile in between the two. "Still not as good as mine."

Carl scowled. "That isn't fair."

Sighing dramatically, as if this whole thing was an inconvenience, June leaned to the front in between the two seats. She stuck the two rocks out toward Daryl, who was sitting in the passenger's seat with legs propped up on the dashboard. "Which do _you_ like more?"

He was more than content just to sit there, ignoring the kids in the back. Ever since Bella had given them authority on picking which stone to add to her "exclusive" selection, the kids had been taking this very seriously. Daryl supposed she did that to entertain them while allowing the adults to settle back and not take part in the conversation, but he believed that it had backfired.

Hardly glancing at the stones, he gruffly said, "the dark one," much to June's dismay. Carl cheered, as Bella rolled her eyes, one hand on the steering wheel. It had snowed for the first time a few days before. It was hardly anything, but the group agreed that Bella and Daryl shouldn't drive the motorcycle on such hazardous conditions.

Hazardous his ass, thought Daryl. The scattered white piles of snow that lined the roads wouldn't do much against his riding, especially since by daytime, the ice had already melted. But he figured at least by riding in a car, he won't have his ass freezing all the time. Daryl squinted at the red truck ahead of them, making sure his motorcycle was still visible in its trunk.

"Y'know, I still can't believe you have a rock collection," said Carl, shaking his head. The kid seemed to enjoy the fact that Bella and Daryl had to drive. Probably needed an escape from whatever mess Rick and Lori was in.

Bella doesn't really talk during the rides, which was fine by Daryl. She seemed more content to listen to her music rather than anybody else. But this caught her attention.

Indignant, Bella glanced up at her mirror to make eye-contact with the boy. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Carl shrugged. "I mean, they're just rocks."

Kid's got a point.

But Bella wasn't having it. As usual, she was weirdly defensive about it. After June and he first gave it back to her after finding it in the water tower, he told her it was stupid. She didn't talk to him for three days. "Well, I'll have you know," sniffed Bella haughtily. "That _my_ very cool, very neat rock collection does not give a damn about your lousy opinion."

The boy grinned. "Did it hurt when you got your tattoo?"

Daryl inwardly groaned. Carl never ceased to ask questions.

Bella, for her part, barely blinked. She seemed more focused on her music player. Holding it in one hand, she would glance down to choose something new to play. "Depends which one. The one inside of my arm stung, but the one on my ribs hurt like hell."

Daryl had been looking outside the window, elbow propped up along the side with his hand at his mouth. But as Bella's words processed in his head, he snapped his head towards Bella.

Carl didn't have the restraint like Daryl. He just blurted out, "You have _another_ tattoo? I thought you just had the ones on your arm!"

Bella lowered her hand, music forgotten. Eyes wide in surprise, she glanced back towards Carl's incredulous face before meeting Daryl's equally startled expression. She looked back at the road, laughing in disbelief. Shaking her head, she said "Well, I guess it isn't a surprise you guys didn't know, considering I'm usually covered everywhere besides my arms. But I have about -" She had to think about it. Lips pursed, she guessed, "three more? They're bigger than the ones on my arm."

"What are they?"

She smiled at Carl's question. Eyebrow raised, she glanced back at him. "What do you think?"

"Flowers? Like the one on your arm?"

Bella nodded. "You got it. They're from the same tattoo artists – Ariel." She sighed dreamily. "Her work is amazing."

Daryl tried to recall Bella's tattoos on her arm. They've all been wearing heavy outer clothing and long sleeves for the past few months, so he hasn't seen them in a while. But he remembered the thin, faint black lines that formed an elegant sketch on her skin. He wondered why those kinds of flowers specifically but decided not to ask.

Ultimately, he wasn't surprised that she had more. Or about how he never really knew. Hell, no one knew about his, except for maybe Hershel, who had tended to his crossbow wound from long ago. His were on his back and chest, more or less covered most, if not all, the time. He didn't like anyone seeing him with his shirt off. Too many questions tended to follow.

Daryl gritted his teeth. He began to mess with one of the rocks from earlier. He gazed at it as he spun it between his fingers, feeling the smooth surface as he rubbed it with his thumb.

This time, it was June who spoke up. "Would you let me have a tattoo?"

Bella snorted. "If you find someone out there who could do it and has all the supplies, go for it."

"Don't _you_ know how to do the hand-poke tattoos?"

"Shut-up."


	24. Seed

Bella held her breath as Rick approached the faded white and scarred door. Standing behind T-Dog, she felt Daryl beside her tense. Rick casted one warning glance toward those behind him before kicking the front door open, causing a loud bang to resonate as the door slammed open.

He rushed in, gun held high as he shot down the walker that met them. Bella quickly let loose her notched arrow, taking down another one not far behind the first. She instinctively reached up behind her to grab another arrow before easily stringing it back.

They all began to spread out and search the lower level of the house. She heard the small, light steps of June right behind her as they crept forward the back of the house. Every time they passed through a door or walkway, the two would immediately tense and raise their weapons. When they reached the kitchen, they lowered their weapons only by a few inches. Carl soon joined them, and Bella nodded towards the cupboards, indicating to search for anything usable.

The kitchen had another narrow, dark hallway connected to it. Creeping forward, Bella squinted to see a closed door at the end and a staircase leading up to the next floor. Hardly breathing, she slowly reached with her left hand for the doorknob, her other hand ready to swing her bow. With a swift, violent yank, the door swung open as Bella pulled back her arrow. She froze as she met the equally startled face of Daryl's, hit crossbow also pointed up at her.

Bella gave a soft snort as the two lowered their weapons, a small smile on Daryl's face. Lips still barely quirked up, she looked up the dark stairwell, hand already tensing on her bow. She began to creep up the rickety stairs, trying to prevent as much noise as she could. Bella could feel Daryl following close behind, covering her.

Once she reached the top, Bella decided to turn left, already knowing Daryl would take the other end. She made quick work of the two empty rooms. They both appeared to belong to two young girls. Thankfully, she hasn't seen or met their bodies so far.

The last room was bright. Sunlight streamed in through the open window, revealing the brown, speckled owl that was perched on top of the wooden chair. It blinked at her, hardly reacting to her upraised bow. All this time without any alive humans approaching it and shooting for sport, it didn't sense Bella's intent to shoot.

Feeling Daryl looking over her shoulder, she let the arrow fly. With hardly a squawk, the small owl fell to the floor with a mute thud. Lately, Bella hadn't been much for eating meat. Of course, she'll eat it when there's nothing else without a complaint, but if she could, she'd eat whatever food they scavenged or wild berries that she can find. Turning around, she gestured for Daryl to go ahead and take it. He rolled his eyes but moved forward, as Bella went ahead to go downstairs.

Once she came downstairs, Bella went back to the kitchen. Hearing the footsteps of the rest of the group entering the house, she peered out of the window of the back door before going outside. To her relief, the people from before had a small little garden. Grabbing a small, dusty bowl, she wiped away the filth as she walked outside into the warm, breezy day.

Overgrown after being left untamed, vines and branches grew unfettered, spilling over the small brown fence. It was still somewhat early in the growing season, so there wasn't as much as there would be in another month or so. It would still be a good place to remember for the future. She reached over and began to collect handfuls of berries (blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries) and even two long cucumbers.

Bowl in hand, Bella walked back into the house, satisfied. It wasn't much, but compared to their usual standards, it was practically a gold mine. She broke the larger cucumber into four pieces and the smaller into five.

Bella walked into the living room right when something unexpectedly skittered across the floor in front of her. Eyebrows furrowed, she stopped the tin can with her foot and took in the healthy dog on its front. Rick was unsurprisingly the pitcher, and he was pacing, as usual, clearly dissatisfied. Daryl aggressively began to skin and pluck his catch. Everyone else sat around the room, eyes lowered and despondent. Food to scavenge was especially scarce these days, and they were beginning to run out of options.

Deciding the best thing to do in response was to say absolutely nothing, Bella quietly walked up to the heavily pregnant Lori, handing her the bowl of berries. Lori casted a weak, thankful smile, which Bella returned in kind. She gave June, Carl, Hershel, and Beth each a larger piece of cucumbers, while handing out the smaller five pieces to Glenn, Maggie, T-Dog, Carol, and Rick. Again, it wasn't much, but everyone casted grateful looks her way as they bit into the freshest thing they've had in days.

But it had hardly been a minute since she distributed her findings before T-Dog, who sat next to the window to take watch, gave a sharp whistle, signaling walkers. The practiced group immediately jumped up without a word and began to proficiently gather their belongings in only a couple of seconds before quickly heading out the back door.

They circled around the house to their cars, ignoring the oncoming group of walkers. Bella secured her bow around her torso as she hopped onto Daryl's motorcycle, hands holding onto his leather vest. Once he felt her two hands, he immediately kicked up his bike, revving it as they rode away, the other two cars following close behind.

Once they reached the empty main road, Daryl slowed to a stop. Bella jumped off and headed towards the slowing cars as he kicked over his kickstand. Hand gripping onto her bow's string, her eyes scanned around the forest as she waited at one of the car's hoods.

Soon, a map was rolled out on top of the hood as most of the group were bent over it while June, Carl, and Beth stood on watch. This was a procedure that has been done countless of times, and it still continued to feel old.

"We got no place left to go," said Maggie, not even bothering to waste time. "Once this herd over here meets up with this one, we'll be cut off. We'll never make it south."

"What did you say?" Daryl looked over Bella's shoulder as he spoke to Glenn. "They're about a hundred-fifty ahead?"

Glenn frowned. "That was last week. Could be twice that by now."

Hershel pointed at the map. "This river could've delayed them. We might have a shot to tear right through here if we move fast."

Bella cocked her head, lips pursed. "But if this group over here joins them, they could spill out and still be a problem."

Rick leaned forward, voice low. "Only thing we can do is take I-27 toward Greenville. Once we hit Newnan, we go west." He shook his head. "We can't just be going house to house. Need to fina place to whole up for a couple of weeks."

Rick's eyes flickered up towards where Lori rested in the car. Everyone knew what was at stake. It was just gonna be a hell of a lot more difficult when the baby's time came around.

T-Dog nodded. "Is it good if we supplied up on more water by the creek?"

Rick squinted up at the sun. "Alright. Just don't take too long."

Daryl nudged Bella with his elbow as he loaded his crossbow. "C'mon. While everyone else washes their panties, let's go huntin.'" He squinted at her in disapproval, hoisting his bow back up. "Ya didn't eat anythin' back there, and that owl didn't really hit the spot."

They didn't have much time and, thus, took quicker strides in the forest. They reached some railroad tracks and began to follow it, eyes scanning the trees for any movement. Daryl hit a squirrel, but other than that, there was unsurprisingly nothing. It took a couple of hours to get enough for the group, not just thirty minutes. But not long afterwards, the trees to the right of them suddenly broke off, revealing a startling scene in front of them.

Maybe only half a mile away was a huge complex that was surrounded by a chain-link walkway, which was comprised of two fences with barbed wire on the top. With its watchtowers and strict appearance, it was obvious that it was some sort of prison in its day. With its vantage points and chain-link walkway, it was heavily fortified.

It would've been perfect if it wasn't for the dozens of walkers that stumbled around in the inside of the fences.

"That's a shame," muttered Daryl.

But Bella stared at it, unwilling to put it past them. Biting her lip, she looked back at Daryl with a raised eyebrow, feeling a sense of hope and relief she hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

Using Dale's old bolt cutters, Rick made quick work of making an opening in the fence. Bella slipped in first, quickly scanning for any unseen holes or weaknesses in the walkway before holding open the fence for Lori. Soon, the group piled in after her, till Daryl and Glenn began securing the gap with a wire.

Slipping to the front, Bella began to lead the group down the walkway, bow at the ready. They moved quickly till they reached its end. A chain-link door separated them from the walker-infested courtyard. A tipped over van on the other side blocked them from seeing beyond it.

Rick walked up to the fence, eyes analyzing the situation. "It's perfect." It was the closest thing to a smile that Bella has ever seen on his face. He pointed and said, "If we could close that gate and prevent anymore walkers from spilling through into the courtyard, we can pick off these walkers easily." Looking at them, he confidently declared, "We can take this field by tonight."

Bella stepped up, fingers already itching. "I can close the gate." Rick turned towards her. "I'm the fastest. Afterwards, I'll run to the watchtower beside it and join the shooting."

Rick considered her before nodding. "Alright. Glenn, Maggie, Beth, and Hershel, you will all draw as many walkers as you can to the fence here and take them out. Daryl, June, and Carol, head to the tower back where we came from. Hershel, Carl, and I will take this tower here."

He put a hand on Bella's shoulder. "You ready?"

"Ready when you are." She gave June's forehead a quick kiss before the younger girl ran off.

Soon, the others were in place, leaving behind just Lori and Bella. Lori braced her hands against the fence, preparing herself to fling it open. "You ready?"

Bella nodded and was soon quickly creeping her way forward. Turning around the tipped over van, she didn't slow down as she took down walkers with her arrows. Practically sprinting, she never slowed down as she headed up the slope to the hill.

As she ran, a walker fell limp close behind her, a green bolt sticking out of its head. Soon after, the dust from only a couple inches in front of her feet blew upwards, a sign of a wayward bullet hitting dangerously close to her. Surprised, she managed a glance toward a sheepish Carol.

Once she got closer to the gate, she swiftly swung her bow around her torso as she grabbed a gun and the locks from her waistbands. She promptly shot a walker ahead of her. Once she reached the gate, she violently kicked back a walker that was trying to slip past the gate before dragging it to a close. After she secured the gate with her locks, she immediately turned around to shoot down two walkers that were creeping up behind her. Running to the watchtower, she yanked its door open, discarding a walker inside before running up to the top.

Once she opened the door, she looked down at the scene of walkers being easily taken down by her group. Grinning, she pulled out her bow and began to join.

It hardly took them five minutes to dispatch them all. Running out of the watch tower, Bella sped towards the group, cackling victoriously. Hell, she practically skipped towards the equally thrilled group, feeling elated for the first time in a long while.

Carol laughed breathlessly as she spun around, taking it all in. "It's the most freedom we've had since the farm."

Bella grinned as the group joyfully crowed, reveling in the much-deserved happiness and sense of security.

* * *

Her head not even reaching the top of the tipped over van, Bella barely managed to push over the tin bowl. Once she was satisfied it came over successfully, she put her foot on one of the tires, and pushed herself up so that her arm was able to reach the top. Taking Daryl's stretched-out hand, she accepted his help to hoist her up to join up.

Slightly out of breath, she nodded to the bowl in his hand. "Carol sent me to feed you. Said she knows that you won't eat unless somebody makes you."

Unceremoniously shoving the shreds of meat in his mouth, he nodded towards the fire. "Guess little Shane over there has quite an appetite."

Bella tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle her smile. Lori's strange affair with Shane had only recently become common knowledge. While many reached that conclusion for themselves, it had only just been confirmed a few weeks ago. Feeling only slightly terrible for finding his comment amusing, she attempted to reign him back. "Stop," she said, although not seriously. "Rick's done hell of a lot better than Shane ever could. Honestly, I thought Rick would go crazy like Shane did in the beginning of his Ricktatorship."

Daryl grunted in agreement, finishing up his plate. Bella stretched out her arm experimentally, feeling the ache on her muscle between her shoulder and neck twinge. She cracked her neck, hoping it would go away, but to her dissatisfaction, it still lingered.

"You good?" Daryl asked, licking his fingers.

Bella shrugged. "Just sore from our last run." Which ended up with Bella landing on her side after falling from a roof that had broken through as soon as she stepped on it. Scared the hell out of everyone there.

Daryl frowned before setting down his bowl. Wiping his hand on his thigh, he gestured for her to come closer. Eyebrow raised, she did as he said. She unexpectedly felt his heavy hand on her shoulder, firmly kneading the taut muscle. Trying not to react, she focused on his calloused fingers that were surprisingly working out the ache pretty well.

Still, the whole situation was rather bizarre and brought a small grin to her face. She tried to hide it, but the ever-observant Daryl picked up on it. He blinked before awkwardly taking his hand back. Clearly wanting an out to this situation, Daryl grunted, "We better get back."

Still, the grin didn't recede from Bella's face. "It's pretty romantic," Bella lightly teased. Biting her lip, she playfully shouldered the obviously uncomfortable Daryl. "Wanna screw around?"

Daryl scoffed, but the blush that Bella had been waiting for crept up his face. However, the two made eye-contact, causing both to break into laughter.

It amused her senseless the first time Bella had teased him like that. He was talking on and on about his arrows once, and he liked those that were of a certain girth to which Bella responded, "I do too, but you don't hear me yapping on about it." He couldn't look at her for the rest of the day.

It was then that Bella was once again reminded that Daryl was an awkward human being who hardly seemed to think or care about romance and sex. As someone who had rarely glanced toward another man once she had joined her play and began to start on her career, Bella appreciated that about him. Even before, she was never seriously committed to another man once June became her responsibility. Her career and June were everything. Perhaps it's why they both clicked and became close friends. The thought of relationships was just incomprehensible, especially now with the world like this.

So, Bella loved to jump on Daryl and mercilessly tease him with jokes like this. He hated it, but it humored her to no end. Shaking his head, Daryl bent down. "I'll go down first."

He made this too easy. Still laughing with mirth in her eyes, Bella said, "Even better."

Daryl groaned. "Stop."

Still, he hovered on the ground with his hand outstretched, ready to help Bella make her climb down if needed.

The two strode back to the fire, where the rest were lounging around, untroubled and carefree. They were speaking amongst each other, talking more than just about food and survival. Bella settled down next to June, who had lately been inseparable from her new best friend, Beth. After a brief moment of hesitation, Daryl sat down beside her.

There was a brief lull in conversations, where everyone contentedly lied down to stare at the stars or look into the fire.

"How about a song?" Hershel looked up at Bella, June, and Beth. "We got some lovely voices here."

An embarrassed Beth shook her head. June and Bella looked at each other, a matching questioning look on their faces. June offered, "How about we sing a song we all know?"

Bella glanced up at the stars, lost in thought. "I'm in the mood for a classic. What do you think, Beth?"

The shier girl looked up at Bella hesitatingly, who gave an encouraging smile. After a pause, Beth asked, "What about that song ya played yesterday? When you rode with us for that hour?"

Bella smiled. Without any sort of preamble, she began to lightly snap her fingers, forming a beat for them to follow. She began to sing dramatically, weaving some jolly quality into the lighthearted song. Daryl noticed long ago that when Bella sang, she liked to move. She'd often sway, use her hands, or move her shoulders.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day  
When it's cold outside I've got the month of May

She nudged June, urging for her to join. The prompt caused a grinning June to join in.

 _Well I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?_

Beth joined in with the slow, mellow song. Bella's voice shown with its confidence, while the two younger girls complimented her singing by harmonizing along with her.

 _My girl (my girl, my girl)  
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl)_

The three sang, all playfully moving along to the music. The rest of the group joined them, grinning and enjoying the show.

 _I've got so much honey the bees envy me  
I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees  
Well I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?  
My girl (my girl, my girl)  
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl ooh)_

Bella's voice gained strength, purposely sounding challenging for the next few lines. She held a finger up as she sang.

 _I don't need no money, fortune, or fame (ooh hey hey hey)  
I've got all the riches baby one man can claim (oh yes I do)  
I guess you'd say  
What can make me feel this way?  
My girl (my girl, my girl)  
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl)_

When their voices faded, the group gave a warm applaud. There was laughter, smiles, and contentment as they lied together as a group. It was moments like these they made Bella genuinely happy to be there, even after everything.

Yet Rick soon came up to shift everything into focus. It was a good thing, she supposed. Even now, behind these fences, they can never safe. Doesn't mean it can't make her a bit sad.

"Better all turn in." He was squatting beside the fire, the flames flickering shadows on his face. "I'll take watch first. We got a big day tomorrow."

Glenn was the brave one to speak out, voice low. "What do you mean?"

Rick sighed, rubbing his mouth before he answered, "I know we are all exhausted. This was a great win. But we have got to push just a little bit more. Most of the walkers are dressed as guards or prisoners – this place fell pretty early. Supplies could be intact."  
Everyone listened intently. Their once somber faces now subtly changed into one of concentration and focus.

"There could be an infirmary. A cafeteria."

"An armory?" Daryl questioned, hand playing with his crossbow's strap.

Rick replied, "That'll be outside the prison, but not too far. The warden's office should have the information on that." He looked at everyone seriously. "This could be it for us. The place that we have been looking for since the beginning."

"We're low on ammo," warned Bella. Her arms were wrapped around her legs. "We'd run out before we make a dent."

Rick nodded gravely. "That's why we got to go push in ourselves. Hand-to-hand." He took in everybody's daunted expressions. "After all we've been through, we can do it. I know it." Rick looked at his son. "These assholes don't stand a chance."  
Bella made a small smile. When Rick looked at her, she nodded. She agrees with him on this. She, like all of them, has his back.

Still, the idea of having a secure place to sleep was tempting. After tomorrow, they could live without as much fear and the urge to look behind their shoulder every five minutes. June could be safe. For now, however, Bella tossed her pack a bit behind her and used it as a pillow. Looking up at the stars, she vaguely noticed June and Daryl beside her similarly preparing for sleep.

This could be it. It had to be.

* * *

Rick flung the gate open, and immediately, the small group lunged ahead – knives and machetes raised. Bella focused on moving along, using Glenn and Maggie on either side of her to help shuffle where to go. Snarling and growls filled their ears as the hungry walkers lurched toward them, arms reaching out. Bella swung her machete, as Glenn thrusted his knife forwards, guts flying out onto him and Bella.

She could hear Rick, who stood at the front of this small huddle, often yelling warnings and commands. She briefly saw T-Dog running ahead half a dozen feet, breaking rank as he yanked away a SWAT shield from an unsuspecting walker.

"Get tight. Get tight!" Glenn's loud chants filled her ears as she dispatched another walker, violently wrenching her machete out of its skull.

Briefly glancing back towards the now-closed gate they came through, she could see the other half of the group banging and screaming against the fence while shoving sticks and rods into walkers' heads. Backs to one another, they've made it halfway across the small, cement courtyard.

Once they've reached the corner, Rick made to turn it, but violently shoved back Glenn and T-Dog behind him, causing the group to briefly stumble into a halt. Bella and the group immediately pressed themselves against the wall, as Rick directed with his hand to freeze. While she couldn't see what was happening, she could guess what would've made them stop.

Soon, two armored SWAT walkers lurched around the corner, causing a few others to follow close behind. Bella and Glenn jumped forward as they attempted to stab futilely at their helmets. Bella pushed her's back, making it stumble a few feet before it reoriented itself. Assessing the best way to kill it, she noticed she somehow ended up with the freakishly tall walker. It staggered towards her, so she quickly moved behind it and kicked its shins so that it fell forward onto its knees. Seeing only pale, grey skin on its neck, she ungracefully stuck her machete up from the base of its skull. Feeling the walker suddenly go dead weight, she heavily heaved her weapon out. Cold, thick blood splattered across her chest as Glenn took care of his.

Meanwhile, Rick had managed to lock up the gate while Daryl, Maggie, and T-Dog took out the stragglers. Once finished, with only the walkers behind the closed gate left to deal with, the group took the time to recover, breathing heavily as they scanned the yard. Bella looked down at the walker gore on her chest. The blood looked almost black on her red tank. A spot landed on one of the inked flowers on her shoulder, as if coloring it in.

Glenn moved toward the rest of the group, but Rick quickly stopped him. Glenn glanced at him surprise as he said, "This place looks secure."  
Daryl nodded towards the walkers behind the gate. "Not by the looks of that courtyard over there."

Bella pointed at one of the walkers the group killed. "And this one's a civilian."

T-Dog, sounding quite done for the day, sighed heavily. "So, the inside of the prison might be overrun with walkers from outside the prison. Means there might be walls down."

Rick quickly looked around. "We can't risk a blind spot." He nodded towards a steel door that was encompassed by another gated walkway, where the letter "C" was painted next to it. "We have to push through and secure the place."

Rick strode forward to open the chain door before walking towards the steel door. Casting a quick glance to the group behind him, he kicked the door open.

Rick lunged in but was met with a still, cold silence. When Daryl closed the door behind them, it echoed in the metal inside. It was dark and chilly, only lit up by the natural light that poured in through the big, tall gated windows that covered one wall. It looked to be some sort of community space, probably for the security guards or maybe the prisoners themselves. It had only two gated doors, one of which led to a cell block that was filled with natural light and the other appeared to lead to an ominously dark hallway.

Bella cautiously crept around the round tables towards the staircase that led up to a small office that oversaw the whole room. She lightly walked up the metal stairs, her soft steps still managing to echo throughout the high ceilings. Once she reached the top, she jumped out, knife at the ready.

Her eyes scanned the already dead warden, who appeared to have had his brains blown out when he was already sitting. Poor guy.

She cautiously prodded it with the point of her knife. Satisfied he was dead-dead, she reached forward to gently remove a rather official looking set of keys from the guy's belt loop.

Moving out, Bella peered down the staircase towards the waiting group. She held up the keys silently, and then tossed it towards the waiting Daryl.

The group crept towards the cellblock, where there appeared to be no sound or movement coming from inside. Daryl gently unlocked the gate before sliding it open.

The rectangular cellblock appeared to be composed of two floors with maybe about eight cells on each level. The cells made an L while the remaining side was just composed of windows, causing light to streak in. The stairway leading to the second floor faced the gate and the group, where it went up to a walkway which in turn led to the cells. The group first combed through the lower level, where the cells had their doors flung wide open, revealing metal bunks in each. Sheets and mattresses were uprooted and scattered on the floors while foreboding splatters of blood stained the walls and floors.

Bella made her way up the stairs, and soon felt Daryl behind her. She didn't know how she knew it was him, but maybe it was the way he walked - low and grounded.

Like how they did at the house they scavenged at yesterday, Bella turned left while Daryl went right once they reached the line of cells. Daryl made quick work of his side, which consisted of only two cells, before joining Bella. Once they reached the last two cells, the both jumped back as walkers suddenly flung their bodies forward, arms outreached between the cells' bars. They both shared an incredulous glance before using their knives to dispatch them.

They had just rolled the bodies over the overhang when the rest of their group walked in. The bodies landed heavily down beneath them in front of the curious faces.

Daryl and Bella leaned against the railing, putting their weight on their arms and elbows as they looked down to the lower level.

"What do you think?" Rick asked the whole group, but eyes focused on Lori.

Glenn let out a tired chuckle. "Home sweet home."  
June ambled forward excitedly, much to the amusement of Bella. The younger girl went up the stairs, where she joined the two up on the railing.

Rick nodded, still serious, but looking a lot more stress-free than earlier. "This cellblock is secure. Tomorrow, we'll go deeper in and look for the cafeteria and infirmary."

Beth warily scanned the blood-stained rooms. "We sleep in the cells?"

"Daryl and I both have a set of keys Bella found on the guards. We'll made do."  
From beside her, Daryl grumbled, "I ain't sleepin' in no cage."He purposefully headed towards the walkway that the stairs led to. Plopping down his crossbow, he spoke louder to the rest of the group. "I'll take the perch."

Bella, however, grinned down at the equally ecstatic girl beside her. "Which cell do you wanna make our own?"

June turned around to face the cells. With a very serious expression, she studied each cell. "Well, taking in which one has the least amount of blood and upheaval, as well as which one has the optimum amount of light and potential, I would say-" She cut off dramatically, as if making a very difficult and costly decision, before pointing down at the third cell. "This one."

It was the one closest to the walkway, which both of them knew would allow them to reach the stairs the quickest, if need be. Bella shoved her forward, as she said, "I call bottom bunk."  
The now fourteen-year-old rolled her eyes. "Lame."

Casting a quick look around, Bella saw that everyone had meandered to their own respective cells, while Daryl, who she could probably see even from inside her cell, was comfortably lying against the cement wall underneath a window. Shaking her head, she entered the sizeable room before unceremoniously dumping her body on the bed. Deciding not to think about who had lived here before, she just stretched her arms and legs out like a cat.

Bella heard June shifting above her, but other than that, everyone had seemed to settle down. Although only noon, the group has already done so much. There was only the occasional rustling and soft thuds as people comfortably got situated. With the pale light streaming into the block, it reminded Bella of the pale blue cast the sky took when it was barely morning. The prison felt almost safe.

Safe enough for Bella to quietly unroot her iPod from her pack and place the earbuds into her ears. Without fear of walkers or sudden threats popping up, she raised the volume as she contently listened as notes began to fill her ears. Soon, she drifted asleep.

Yet as the next day came around, it was all back to business. Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Hershel, and she stood around one of the tables in the common space. The surface was covered with guns, weapons, and gear they had all scavenged from the courtyard and the warden's office. Bella inspected the weapons, her knowledge of them from her days working in a gun shop coming in hand. She appreciatively ran her hand over the items. "Not bad at all."

Rick recognized some of the weapons she didn't from his days from working with the law. "Flashbangs, CS triple-chasers. Not sure how they'd work on walkers, but we'll take 'em."  
Bella shrugged. "Could be good for people, if it comes to that."

That put a solemn note on the group, but it was quickly interrupted by Daryl beside her, who had lifted up a SWAT helmet and tipped it over causing sludge to splatter onto the ground. "I ain't wearing this shit."

T-Dog grimaced as he poured out similar goop from a glove. "We could boil 'em."

Daryl scowled. "Ain't enough firewood in the whole forest to do that. Besides-" He picked up a metal baton and did an experimental swing, causing Bella to also scowl and step back. "-We made it this far without them."

Not long after, June and Carl unsurprisingly snuck in and began to curiously inspect some of the equipment. June picked up the same baton Daryl had set back down, while Carl was checking out the SWAT helmet – probably to add to his collect of government hats.

They began to get ready for their trip to go deeper into the prison. Rick decided they would need as many able fighters they can take, which meant Hershel, Maggie, and Glenn would join them also. Bella decided to forego the protective gear. There weren't enough, and most were too large for her. Instead, she wrapped a small, powerful flashlight around the back of her left forearm, over her arm guard. That way, it allowed it to point straight ahead when she raised her bow up.

Once she finished, she walked over to the kids - teens, who looked like they were playing dress up with the adult sized gear. Taking away the helmet from Carl, she put a hand on each of their shoulders. "You guys are going to stay right here."  
Sensing their oncoming protests, she raised a hand. "Ah-ah." Bella looked at them seriously. "We're all going to be out there. Something could go wrong. We need you two to stay back and protect everyone else. Alright?"

Now businesslike, the two nodded seriously. Bella patted June's bun when Rick handed the keys to Carl and commanded, "Let's go."

The group headed towards the other gate in the common space. Once they stepped through into the hallway, the only way they were able to see was from their own flashlights. Dark and dank, it smelled stale and rotten at the same time. Bella could hardly keep up with all the twists and turns they were taking. Rick had studied the map in the warden's office earlier, but he still had Glenn spray-paint the walls as they moved, marking which direction they were going to help find their way back.

So, the silence was often loudly interrupted by the spray-paint's can. It would most likely call to any walkers in these halls, so the rest of the group tensely had their weapons raised.

This whole experience was creepy as hell. It inappropriately reminded Bella of when she once went to a haunted house during Halloween, after her cast from the play decided it would be a great a bonding exercise. It truly was, to be honest. Because they, much like the group is doing now, had to meander through purposely long and confusing hallways where scary shit would pop out. Bella hated it then, and she definitely despised it now.

Because the still bodies they passed weren't plastic or people faking it under makeup. The blood stains weren't splattered around for dramatic effect. The smell was definitely not there. And there sure as hell wasn't the very real threat on their lives.

The group crept their way forward, methodically and carefully scanning every cell and hallway they past. The further they moved in, the more killings and gore there were. Their narrow beams of light shown upon every grisly scene.

Every turn they made was gut-wrenching, as the whole group would tense before Daryl or Rick would lunge out, ready to fight if they had. So far, they hadn't run into any walkers, but they knew it was coming.

When Rick broke the silence to furiously command to go back, the whole group turned away, immediately spinning around to retreat. While Daryl and Rick kept the walkers away from them in the back, Bella led the group around, bow and light raised as she directed them. But when she turned a corner, another pack of walkers lunged out. Maggie yanked on her arm, and the two immediately ran around another corner, causing them to split from the rest of the group.

The two women ran down the hallway, making another turn. It wasn't long before they lost the pack of walkers, but now they were effectively lost themselves. The two grimaced at each other as they realized their situation.

Bella whispered to her, "Let's just head back towards where we came from. We can't be too loud, but we can try calling out to the others."  
Maggie nodded. Bella took the front while Maggie followed close behind, making sure nothing would sneak up behind them. Bow raised, Bella used her light to shine down every hallway, hoping it would attract somebody's attention. The two whispered names from their group loudly every time, their words sharply echoing down the halls.

To their alarm, a loud scream resonated throughout the prison, and then a gunshot. The two jumped, and Maggie screamed "Daddy" as she sped down towards the source. Bella immediately followed after her.

But once again, they were caught by another pack of walkers. The sound was attracting a lot more than just her and Maggie, and it seemed like the whole prison had awoken. Once both sides of the hallway were crawling with walkers, Bella yanked on Maggie so that they turned again.

It was absolutely disorienting to run in the dark. Bella didn't know where they were, but she knew it was away from where they came from. But the longer they ran, the more her inner compass spun. They could've been running in circles for all she knew. But they still never saw any white arrows.

Bella felt like her lungs were bursting. She and Maggie briefly rested on a bloodstained wall, bent over at the knees as they tried to recover. But it wasn't long before walkers appeared around another corner.

"We've got to get back," gasped Maggie as she staggered back up.

Bella raised her arm, where her flashlight was still taped to, as she directed them to another hallway. "Any idea where that is?"

As soon as she turned, a walker threw itself towards her, eyes cloudy and teeth white. Almost immediately, Maggie stabbed her knife from the back of its head. Still very aware of the herd they left behind, the two spent no time wasting as they sped away.

At one point, they saw light down the tunnel. There was no way it was their cellblock, but anywhere was better than the dark.

As they got closer, Bella noted with a relief that at the end of the hall, there was a gate on the side, much like how a hall led to their common space. But when they were only a few feet away, walkers had thrown themselves against the gate till they covered all the gaps. They couldn't see inside because of all the walkers, but the sheer volume of banging against the cement walls told them there was a lot more than they could handle. She prayed that the gate would hold.

Bella's heart pounded as she realized that this hall had no other way out except back where they came from. She prayed that the pack they were running away from hadn't caught up yet, or else the two would both be blocked. "C'mon," Bella shouted. She grabbed Maggie's hand, and the two raced down.

They had reached the end right when a handful of walkers appeared. Not slowing down, Bella used her bow to dispatch one a couple feet away, and then another. But once she reached them, she swung her bow around in one motion across her torso as she embedded her machete into one's head. Maggie had taken out two already.  
There were still two left, but they were more of a waste of energy than anything. So, the two shoved past them and ran.

They ran until they couldn't anymore. Throwing themselves into a room, the two took out three walkers easily. They locked the door behind them, right when pounding banged on the doors. Quickly, Bella and Maggie shoved a shelf in front of it.

Falling to the ground, they scanned what would've been probably been some sort of classroom back in its day. It was dark and only lit up by their flashlights. There were desks nailed to the ground and a chalkboard in the back. The inmates they killed were walkers. There were bites only on two, but one had been stabbed.

There was some other noise, all the way in the back. The snarling made it clear what it was, but the fact it wasn't coming out meant it simply couldn't. Still breathing heavily, Bella staggered up with her bow. She slowly made her way to behind the wheeled chalkboard, where a walker was tied up on a chair.

She eyed it, trying to read the situation. The walker was a woman with red hair in a guard uniform and a knife sticking out of its heart. Bella had no idea how this happened, but she decided she didn't want to know. Instead, she shot it with an arrow, silencing it.

"We should stay here for now." Bella barely spoke above a whisper, but Maggie reacted like she screamed at her. "I don't like it either." She pointed at the door where the walkers were still pounding. "They don't either. So, we wait until they leave. After we regain our strength, we'll go."  
Maggie stared at her, wide-eyed before consenting with a quick nod. "Alright. But we have to figure a way out."  
Bella joined her to sit against the wall. "I say our best bet is to get out of the prison. Find an exit. Then we'll circle around to block C. But as far as I can tell, the only place with doors are those community spaces. Unless we find the front entrance somehow."

The two didn't speak for a bit. All they could hear was the insistent banging and growling. Bella sighed. "This sucks."  
Maggie snorted. "You ain't wrong about that."

It ended up being hours before the walkers went away, either distracted by something else or bored of their food. The two waited for a bit before they slowly dragged the bookshelf away. While Maggie stood beside the door, knife in hand, Bella slowly reached for the knob.

She cracked the door open. After a heartbeat, she pulled it back, and the two slipped into the dark.

After sitting and running in the dark for so long, they both accepted that they were fruitlessly lost. They're best hope was to do what Glenn had done earlier. With two red sharpies they found in one of the desks, they marked arrows on the walls to show where they were heading, both for if they get lost or if the others come looking.

They moved slowly compared to how frantic and panicked they were earlier. They killed methodically and didn't linger for long. If they heard a pack of walkers coming toward them, they would duck into the nearest doorway.

Bella raised her hand suddenly. The two stopped when they heard shuffling from around the corner. It sounded like only one, so the two women glanced at each other before creeping forward. Once they reached the corner, Bella jumped up, flashlight and knife raised.

The light hit the very startled and frightened June. Bella froze for a heartbeat as June also stared back at her, before the two both jumped forward, embracing.

"June," Bella whispered. "Christ. What are you doing here?"

June pulled back, eyes wide. Maggie was intently looking down the halls while listening. "The others came back, but Hershel got bit." Maggie let out a soft cry. Speaking fast, June continued, "He's okay. For now. Rick had to amputate his leg and he doesn't seem like he has a fever. But he needed more than just rags, so I went to the infirmary." She raised a stuffed bag. "But on the way back, walkers cut me off."  
Snarling interrupted their conversations. Bella quietly gestured for them to move. "Do you know the way back?"

June shook her head. "I had to run for a while. But the direction of the cell block is that way." She pointed down the hall they were in.

Bella and Maggie looked at each other before nodding. "Alright. Let's go."

Based off of the tiny windows that they would occasionally pass, it was already night time. They continued to move slowly and carefully. The numbers of walkers were dwindling, so Bella assumed they were getting closer to the direction of their cell block.

She spotted double doors up ahead and gestured for the other two to wait. They needed a break, maybe somewhere to settle down for the night until it gets brighter in the day. She cautiously approached the doors. The windows were covered up from the inside, which meant at some point, people were in there. She gently knocked on the door, her knuckles just lightly brushing it.

Immediately, the walkers inside reacted. Just like the cell block Maggie and she found before, this room seemed to be filled to the brim. But the other had an iron gate welded closed, while this just had two doors. Already, arms were sticking out and mouths gnashing at them. There was only what appeared to be a wooden stick – maybe a mop or something – that was placed through the handles to prevent it from opening. But she could already see that it would snap under more pressure – which might be very soon.

"Go," shouted Bella. She ran forward and grabbed June's hand. The three of them only managed to go down the hall when a huge bang echoed through the halls. Then, snarls and growls were bouncing off of the walls as the herd of walkers shuffled towards them. Briefly turning to shine her light on them, Bella saw that there were dozens lurching towards them.

Maggie swore when they turned into another handful of walkers. Rather than wasting time to deal with them, the three went back around and continued going, the herd not far behind.

Soon, Maggie yelled, "Don't turn right! That's the cell block – the one with walkers." Bella vaguely spotted the red lines that marked their way from earlier.

They could either retreat and attempt to deal with the herd of walkers behind them. They could turn right where they will reach the walker cell block and ultimately get cut off. Or they could go to the double doors to the left of them. "In there!"

Bella yanked a door open and waited for Maggie and June to rush in before entering herself. But to her growing horror, there was a few dozen walkers lurching towards them.

In a split second, she scanned what appeared to be perhaps another cafeteria. The walkers were huddled on the far side of the room, where there was another door, but they were now heading straight toward them. It had high ceilings, and like most of the rooms with high ceilings in the prison, it had a gated walkway. "Go there! Now!" She was practically screaming at June and Maggie. But her heart was pounding, and she was so, so scared.

Following the two, she took up the rear. She stabbed a walker in the head and began to use her gun to shoot them down. But when two walkers lunged at her, she was forced to stumble back – cutting her off from the other two. She heard the jangling of the walkway being opened. "Close it now! Don't wait for me!"

"Mom!" She recognized the scream, and she wanted to cry. But she couldn't. Her lungs were hurting, but she still managed, "I'll drive them out. Get to the other door as soon as they leave. Don't wait for me!"

And without waiting for a response, Bella ran back to the door they came from, the walkers following close behind her.


	25. Hounded

**AN: Just letting y'all know, I have created a bunch of edits/themes that show what I imagine certain parts of the story looks like (i.e. what Bella looks like, the water tower, her tattoos, etc.). They are posted on "Shit Happens" in archiveofourown in chapters 1, 9, and 20 AND also on my NEW tumblr account (redrose689). Please check them out! They are so much fun for me to make, and they give an idea of what everything looks like.**

* * *

Daryl sat on the freshly turned dirt, knees bent up to his chest and elbows on his knees. His clasped hands rested against his mouth as he stared at the small pile of rocks that acted as a headstone. June said that Bella wasn't religious, but she did like rocks.

His finger tapped against his other hand – the only sign of Daryl's agitation. He didn't want them to create this mock grave. Her body wasn't in it. Hell, she might not even be dead. He argued against this and didn't even go to her "funeral." He didn't know why the hell he was here now, but something about looking at it – feeling it – brought him into focus.

When he asked June if she thought Bella was actually dead, she said, "I want to hope she isn't. She had hope for me. I won't accept it till we see a body, but I still can't help but mourn." June had started crying again, so Maggie took over and Daryl didn't ask again.

June said Bella might be alive, but he could tell by the way June said it that she truly didn't believe it, even if she might not know it yet. From the way they described it, there was only three ways she could've gone: the church, the cell block, or the hallway. All of which were packed with walkers.

Once Hershel got bit, the rest of the group was forced to forget the chase and take him to safety, which is how they eventually found the group of prisoners. They had assumed – _hoped -_ that Maggie and Bella were okay and had found their way back.

Even once they had discovered that they hadn't returned, and that June was missing, Rick sent half of the group to find them and the other half to deal with the prisoners demands. But all it ended with was the deaths of three of the prisoners, and no Maggie, June, or Bella.

The next morning, when the whole group set out to find them, they ran into the shaken pair of Maggie and June. Rick was stunned when he heard about what happened to Bella. He actually had to brace himself against the wall, as he took in the information.

Daryl had immediately shaken his head. "I'm goin' out there," he said, crossbow already in hand as he strode out. But June had stopped him.

So, here he was, hours later. Rick had decided that first they would need to plan how to get rid of all the walkers down in Cell Block B – not only to search for Bella but also to protect the group. But it was taking them a hell of a long time to do so.

He heard footsteps approaching. Daryl recognized the uneven fall of steps, signaling the telltale gait of Rick. It was something that Bella and Daryl often joked about, unbeknownst by Rick.

It was a long while when Daryl finally lowered his hands. "She ain't dead. She ain't dead till she is."

Rick nodded slowly, looking at the rocks. "I get it. She's tough. If any of us could make it out of that, it would be her. Maybe there was another door, or the herd never caught up to her. It's why we are going to go look." When he glanced down at Daryl, Daryl refused to look back up. "It's why I need to know that no matter what we find – or don't find – you won't lose it down there."

Daryl scoffed. He stood up, his crossbow on his back. "If you spent more time worrying about searchin,' then when we wouldn't need to have this conversation."

Rick wasn't fazed or offended. He just rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Well, we are ready to go. First, us two and Glenn need to go out and get some wood. With all the walkers in that cell block we are about to clear out, all we can do is burn them."

The three worked quickly and solemnly. There were a couple of dead trees from the winter that made it easy enough to pick and cut down. They would need a whole lot more, but it's something to get started.

Going back through where they first clipped the gated walkway open, the three had just entered and closed the hole when they were greeted with a warming sight.

All the way back in the courtyard outside their block, Hershel was already up and walking on his crutches not a day later. He was joined by the rest of the group, who were cheering him on. The old man looked no worse for wear.

Glenn started whooping beside him. Daryl squinted at him, hand raised against the sun. "He's one tough son of a bitch."

But Daryl watched as Carl and the rest suddenly began to start scrambling away from the prison. Their wild and reckless movements made him feel dread. Not far behind them, walkers were lurching their way from somewhere in the prison.

Not long after the three men started running, the harsh, jarring blare of the alarms echoed throughout the prison.

* * *

The baby blinked at him, her pale blue eyes going cross-eyed as she blearily took him in. Daryl looked down at the little thing, marveling at how this piece of life could still exist in a world taken over by death. He was relieved that as soon as he fed her the formula, her cries ceased. It had calmed the group down considerably. After all the loss and heartbreak they had endured in just that day alone, this acted as another blessing.

The midday sun streamed into the common space, allowing Daryl to feel a bit of warmth he hadn't yet felt in this cold, steel prison. As he looked up to the group, he saw hints of a smile on everyone's faces. He shifted the baby a bit. "So," he glanced down toward Carl, who was watching the baby carefully. "She got a name?"

Carl shrugged, still muted. He kicked his foot lightly against the floor as he mumbled, "Maybe Bella." Daryl briefly stilled his rocking movements, feeling as if a stone settled heavily in his chest. He saw June looking away, her eyes still red from earlier. Carol wrapped an arm around the young girl comfortingly. "Or Sophia. Andrea. Or- " The boy let out a shuddering breath. "Or Lori. I don't know."  
Daryl had to smother whatever the hell he was feeling down. He couldn't afford to lose himself like Rick had when he found out about Lori's death, not when the group desperately needed a leader to cling on to. He also didn't want to deal with the loss himself. Not now.

So, he slowly began to rock the baby. He never held one of these before, but something about it felt natural. The baby was still gulping down the formula, gurgling contentedly. "Yeah, you like that?" Daryl never cooed, and he refused to think that was what he was doing that. "Little ass-kicker." He looked up at the group's amused faces. "Right?" he pressed. Even Carl and June laughed.

"That's a good name. Right, sweetheart?"

Bella would've loved her.

* * *

Daryl found June and Carl sitting on the floor in the middle of her cell, a large book sprawled open. When he walked in, he jolted when he saw a familiar pair of green eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself to join June, as the girl flipped through a photo album – the same one the two retrieved from the water tower a few months ago. He'd never seen it since and haven't really thought about it as much.

But here it was, revealing countless of photos of June and Bella throughout the years from before. It felt strange, almost intrusive, as he gazed upon their younger, smiling faces. When June flipped the page, the girl looked only ten. He looked at Bella's youthful face. She was probably only around twenty-four? Twenty-five?

As June went through the book, they both got progressively older until it reached a point when Daryl could hardly see the distinction from them then and them now. The only major difference was how carefree they looked compared to now. Bella was often grinning, her eyes flashing as her photo was being taken. In one, she was sticking out her middle finger, eyebrow raised teasingly. Despite how Bella looked exactly the same as she did a few days ago, Daryl could tell that the person in the photo was different from the Bella he knew.

Still, he didn't like looking at how _alive_ and vibrant she was, so he broke the silence. "Y'know, my mom liked her wine." The kids looked up at him, surprised. Daryl didn't like talking about the past – there's no use in it. So, the group hardly knew much about him from before, even Bella. But she understood, somehow, that some things were best left behind. Except maybe for now

"She liked to smoke in bed. Virginia slims," he added. Although, he was speaking to the kids now, he played back the memories in his head. He could still see her there, her thumb flicking off some ash from her cigarette.

"One day, I was out with some kids in the neighborhood. Merle wasn't there, so I was able to. They had bikes – I didn't. When sirens came, they jumped the gun and chased after it. Hopin' to see somethin'. I ran after them, but I couldn't keep up." It had been so long ago, that Daryl, all-in-all, got over it. Still, it felt strange to say this all out loud, especially now.

"When I got there, they were lookin' at me. Hell, everyone was lookin' at me. It was my house the firetrucks were there for. My mom was in bed, burnt down to nothing."

He looked at the two. He had mourned long ago, and this was more for them than anything. "That was the hard part. She was just gone. Nothing left of her. Everyone said it was for the best. But-" Daryl shrugged half-heartedly, letting out an empty chuckle. "I don't know. It didn't make it feel real."

Carl spoke first, surprising June and Daryl. "I shot my mom."  
They looked at him, taken aback. But he was looking at the photos, hat covering his face.

"She was out. Hadn't turned yet." Carl looked up at them, eyes blank. "I ended it. This was real."

June put a hand on Carl's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your mom," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry about yours," he said.

* * *

Daryl slowly walked along the halls, watching his shadow creep along with him. The sun will still be out for another couple of hours, so as he moved throughout the prison, he took care to keep close to the outer parts. They tended to be the ones with the windows, making it easier for him to see without relying on his flashlight for the whole time.

He felt strangely numb and robotic. Whenever a walker came toward him, he took it out methodically with little thought to it. It was muscle memory, and the snarling and decayed bodies did little to startle him – especially when it was just one.

The urge to look never went away. He felt almost guilty when he was reminded about Bella. After running around to shut off the alarms, the deaths, and the baby, the search for her never took place. When she never showed up throughout that time, it was enough justification for the group to accept her death.

Daryl didn't know if he accepted it. Like his mother's death, this one didn't seem real. But when he thought about what she was against, and how it's been two days since they got separated, he was cruelly reminded about how slim her chances were. This wasn't like June, who they had to search for in a huge forest. This was a prison with exits, and Bella knew where to go. She would've found her way back.

So, maybe he wasn't looking for her – alive, at least. Maybe he was trying to end it. Make it feel _real_. Maybe then, he could finally and properly mourn.

He was getting close to the cellblock. Cellblock B. While Maggie and Daryl had gone away to get the formula, the rest decided to open the entrance and empty out the walkers into their own courtyard. Dozens had come out they said, and they one-by-one stabbed them in their heads at the fence. There were some shot with arrows, but other than that, there was no sign of Bella. Not amongst the walkers, and not in the cell block. Just a lot of blood.

It was entirely possible that they'll never find her – her or her body. It sickened him to think about it, so he didn't. It was why he had been here, wandering around this cage for the past two hours. For now, he'll continue to look. He doesn't know when he'll stop, but, right now, this is enough.

When he saw the red lines drawn along the wall, he rubbed his thumb against it. It smeared, breaking the line and staining his thumb. Maggie had said Bella drew them so that the others could find the two of them, when they would come looking. He clenched his hand and forced himself to follow.

Daryl saw the church, the classrooms, and the cell block. He saw the tied-up guard Maggie mentioned. There were indistinguishable smears and splatters of blood everywhere, marks from the herd that had resided here. The red lines were there. But she wasn't. She wasn't anywhere.

In one of the rooms he found, it appeared to be some sort of recreational space. It was open and almost sparse looking. But there were instruments. A guitar. A piano.

Anger spiked up, hot and red. It fractured the calm and methodical mentality he had taken on. He hadn't felt this angry since the time at the farm. He felt like he was receding back into the angry man he once was.

Daryl had to get out of there. Without a look back, he practically ran out of the room. He knew it wasn't smart to be like this out here. The group had lost so much in this place already. Daryl didn't even tell anyone where he was going, but they'd probably figured it out for themselves. So, he started heading back, breathing to calm himself down.

Most of the walkers in the prison had ended up being attracted to the loud herd that had gathered in Cell Block C. Thus, the number of walkers that frequented the halls were fewer. There was still quite a few left, but nowhere as near as much as before. Thus, it was easy to handle every walker he came by. There was usually one or two at a time; at most, there was five.

Daryl took one down with his crossbow. He yanked it out brutally, its brains and blood adding to the splatters already on the walls. He continued his way.

The group had quickly found where the civilian walkers were coming from. The whole front of the prison looked like it had gotten burnt to hell, leaving huge holes filled with walkers. The debris still managed to keep most of them there, but there were some gaps where a couple would manage to slip by.

He stabbed one in the head and threw it towards another, toppling it to the ground. He made quick work of it.

The hole in the prison was a huge downfall to the place's security. It was a blind spot, considering how they almost never go to that area, and all the while it attracts walkers in. They will have to deal with it soon, once Rick gets his head together.

Belatedly, Daryl hears more shuffling around the corner. Like clockwork, he raises his knife. But before he could jump out, the walker already lunged toward him.

He didn't see much, since the only light came from a small window down the hall. He just saw a dark blur covered in cold, thick blood that smeared onto his side as he stumbled back.

It was on him before he could even focus on it, but it was easy enough to push it back against the wall. Its wild hair covered much of its face, preventing it from seeing much. Forearm pushed against its throat, Daryl raised his knife to stab it in the head.

But when it looked up at him, green flashed through. Without even processing it, Daryl stilled. The eyes were green – not cloudy. But they had a dazed look, blinking fast, it was clear that they had a hard time focusing on him.

Followed by a shuddering breath, Daryl's knife dropped and rattled against the floor. But Daryl didn't even look at it. With one arm still pressing her against the wall, Daryl, shell-shocked, used his other hand to cup her cheek.

It was more to wipe away the old blood more than anything. Once he saw her pale skin underneath all the walker blood around her face, he could only let out, "Bella?"

She was fiercely fighting against his hold, but her pushes were weak and disoriented. But once he said her name, she blinked at him, eyes hazy. She slowly lowered her arms, her breathing loud and uneven.

But suddenly, she jumped forward into his arms.

Daryl held onto her, his shock fading away into concern. His arms were around her back, where her bow and quiver were still slung around. But she was covered almost head-to-toe in walker blood from what he could see. And although she was able to stand, she was half-slumped against him.

Gently, he pulled back, one arm still around her. It was clear that she was very unsteady on her feet. But there was something else wrong. Her eyes kept shifting and blinking fast.

He sat her down against the wall when she said, her voice slow and thick, "I thought you were a walker. I thought-" Her voice slurred a bit, before she trailed off, disoriented. It seemed like she was having a hard time keeping her head up.

"Bella, are ya hurt?" It was a stupid question it felt, but he had to ask. Dehydrated, probably. But it was hard to tell whether she was hurt externally. She wore a large prison guard jacket that he had never seen before. Covered in walker gore, it also hid any other wounds she might have beneath. Her wavy hair was sticking out everywhere, with blood and other pieces of flesh matted and tangled throughout it. He used his rag to wipe away the blood on her face, but still, she looked like shit.

In response to his question, she slowly raised her hand and touched lightly the side of her head, above her ear. Daryl pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket and shined it on where she was touching. As gently as he could, he tried to brush her hair out of the way. But it was matted with bright red blood, and he realized it might be her own.

Lifting her chin up with his hand, he shined the light into her right eye. Her pupil was already blown out, leaving only a rim of green. When the light hit it, the pupil barely constricted. After a second, Bella winced and turned away from the flashlight and his hand.

Daryl's had enough incidents on his bike and in life in general that had made him rather familiar with concussions and head injuries. He would save himself the trip and cost of visiting a doctor and handle it himself.

His experience was enough to see that Bella did, indeed, have a concussion. How she came to have one, and how she was even alive would be for another time.

"Can ya walk? Or do you need me to help carry ya?"

Bella squinted at him as she processed his words. "Screw you. I can do it."

Daryl didn't know whether he wanted to roll his eyes or laugh in relief. She's alive. Bella is alive.

Instead, he pulled her up. Wrapping his arm around her waist, Daryl moved her arm around his shoulders. She leaned heavily against him, and slowly, the two made their way back.

* * *

 **AN: Unfortunately, college is just around the corner. So my updates will most likely become more sporadic, especially as I adjust to this semester. I got a position to research in a lab (WOO), but it'll take up a LOT of my time. But I definitely do not plan on giving up on this story!**

 **Also, I had originally written this chapter to be much longer. I had included events of Killer Within, but ultimately decided that it wasn't crucial for Bella and Daryl's relationship. It felt too drawn out, and, in short, boring. So hopefully, this way is better!**


	26. When the Dead Come Knocking In

Daryl waited patiently outside as June helped Bella get washed up. June was the only one in the cellblock when the two came back, which was probably a good thing. He had left them two to give them their privacy and to go out and get buckets of the water they had collected from the creek nearby, deciding that Bella was in much more desperate need of it than anybody else.

Afterwards, June and Daryl fed the much cleaner and less bloody Bella. She was sitting against the wall on the lower bunk, wearing a T-shirt and sweats. While she ate, Daryl sat beside her as he pulled back her damp hair from where she got hit. There was a cut about two inches long. It had already stopped bleeding long ago and appeared to be healing on its own. But there was swelling, further confirming the idea of a concussion.

After drinking water earlier, she seemed much better, although still very exhausted and dazed. When she first entered the cell block, however, it took her a while to get used to the brightness. June had to hang a blanket from the top bunk so that it hung over the edge to act as a curtain.

Shifting back against the headboard, Daryl asked, "How did this happen?"

Bella was ravenous after not eating for two days, but they decided to slowly wean her back into normal portions. Munching on a cup full of corn, she spoke slowly, but she didn't slur her words as much. "It's a bit blurry, to be honest. I think after I ran out of the church, the herd we were running from in the first place was coming closer. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them." Her voice trailed off a bit, as she tried to gather her thoughts. "There were a few bodies at the end of the hall, toward the cell block. I had to run fast to give me enough time to cut one open and cover myself with its guts. But I did it. I knew it wouldn't be enough if I got surrounded, so I dragged its body with me as I used it as a shield to run away. I managed to get back into the church, but the doors had been broken open from the walkers."  
Bella rubbed her head, her eyes shutting briefly. "Hey," Daryl interrupted, leaning forward. "Don't strain yourself. We got time."

But she waved him off. "I don't really what happened next. I think I tripped over a body – I really don't know. I just know I was bleeding, and I managed to get myself on the same walkway June and Maggie were on. When I woke up, I felt like shit. Could hardly think – passed out again. Then, when I could stand enough, I decided I was fine enough to find my way back." She paused. "I may not have been thinking clearly."

At that point, Daryl heard the door in the common space swing open and some muffled voices. Daryl, after saying he'd be back, quickly headed out of the cell block. The group needed some good news, and this would definitely suffice.

But as he got closer, he heard Rick's voice, tense and low. Something was up, but nobody was screaming or shouting, so that was something.

As Daryl swung the door open and entered the common space, he immediately zoned in to the injured women who was lying on the floor, clenching onto her leg. There was a sword lying a few feet away from her besides Rick, who was squatting over her. The others were there too, observing as Rick questioned the stranger.

It was the first time Daryl had seen him since he had learned the news of Lori's death. Before Rick was as unresponsive as a walker, eyes unfocused and movements stiff and sudden. He had run off into the dead-infested prison without a word and hadn't returned since. Glenn had said he was almost attacked by Rick himself when he tried to coax Rick out, so Daryl was surprised to see him so _normal_.

"Y'all better come on in here," Daryl cut in. The others in the room weren't hostile around the woman, so he assumed this would be a good of a time as any.

Rick didn't turn away from the woman, but Daryl could hear the familiar calm drawl when he responded, "Is everything good back there?"

Daryl just gave a barely noticeable half-smile. "You're going to want to see this."

Rick nodded. Before he turned around, he said to the samurai, "We'll keep this -" He lifted up her sword. "- Safe and sound. All the doors are locked, and you'll be safe here. We can treat your wound."

Rick strode past Daryl, who followed close behind.

When Daryl first took Bella in, he didn't bother her taking her up to her cell on the second floor. She could hardly walk in a straight line, so he set her down in one of the empty cells on the first floor. Daryl led the group to her cell, where she sat up and gave a sheepish smile at their incredulous faces as she said weakly, "Surprise."

Rick seemed like the air in his chest had been knocked out. He braced himself against the top bunk as he stepped forward while Bella rose up. Rick closed the distance and enveloped her in a hug, the relief and happiness evident, holding onto her tightly. He seemed to be almost overcome with emotion as he held her tightly. It was the first time Daryl had seen him smile in days.

"How?" Carol asked, as she swooped in for her own hug.

Bella held onto her tightly as June, who was watching from the bed, responded, "She covered herself in walker gore to escape. Later, she hit her head and started bleeding but managed to get to somewhere safe before passing out."

As she hugged Hershel, Daryl added, "Blood loss and dehydration. Plus, a possible concussion."

Once Hershel and Carol moved out of the way, it revealed Beth and Carl, but with Little Ass-kicker in Beth's arms.

Daryl watched as Bella's eyes widened and her face soften as she took in the baby. She let out a small exhale, as her eyes immediately looked for the mother. But once she didn't see her, the answer was clear. He saw as her eyes watered and her hand covered her mouth in grief. Bella turned towards Rick, who was also trying to hold himself together. She could hardly get the words out. Instead, she put a hand on his heart and looked up at him, choking out, "I'm so sorry."  
It was hard for Daryl to watch. He couldn't handle telling her about all they had lost in that one day, and neither did June. They had just gotten her back, but it was bound to happen.

Rick nodded slowly, eyes blinking back tears as he briefly held placed his hand on top of Bella's. But it seemed she was struck by another horrifying thought, and she turned around, eyes searching for someone else.

And she saw him. Carl. Just standing beside Beth with his eyes casted down on the ground. It was clear that the kid was also trying to hold back his grief, but they changed once Bella knelt on the ground in front him.

Tears began to stream down her face as she took him in and enveloped him in a hug. At that point, Carl also broke down, hugging her back just as tightly. Daryl knew it broke her heart more to see Carl like that. The two of them have only grown closer since they first met. It was good for the kid. Daryl hadn't seen him cry about it since it happened, but instead retained a somber, serious demeanor that nobody had been able to crack until now.

Carl wasn't really full out sobbing. His face was burrowed into Bella's shoulder, and the only sign was his shaking shoulders. Bella had stopped crying, but she held onto him. The boy needed his mother. No one could replace her, but Bella was just enough for now.

Once Carl pulled back, he used his hat as a shield from everyone's gaze as he wiped at his face aggressively. Bella kept one hand on his shoulder as Hershel stepped forward. Leaning on one of his crutches, he gently inspected the cut on his head. "You passed out right when you hit your head or after a while?"

As Hershel checked on Bella, Rick, who's bleary eyes were still tinged red but beginning to gain back focus, pulled Daryl to the side and began to explain the woman in the cell. When they looked through the grocery basket she had brought with her, there was only baby formula. Glenn and Maggie had gone out a few hours ago to find some more. They weren't gone too long, but this clearly had something to do with the two of them.

Hershel strode up, leaving Bella and the others sitting around in her cell. "She'll be alright as long as she doesn't do much for the next couple of days. All I can offer her are some painkillers and rest. Let's hope nothing else happens, so she and all of us can have the time to recover."

Rick repeated, "Let's hope." He briefly glanced at Carl before saying, "Come on. That woman had this basket for a reason."

The three men walked back into the common space, where the woman had pulled herself up to sit against the wall. Daryl stared her down, refusing to be intimidated by her intense gaze. She could give Rick a run for his money.

Rick lifted up the basket. "How did you get this?"

She simply glowered at him. Her head was low, but her eyes never wavered. That is, until Rick swooped down to press against her injured led. "I asked you a question."

She immediately lashed out like a wounded animal, causing Daryl to immediately aim his crossbow at her head. "Don't you touch me," she hissed.

Rick shook his head. "Then answer the question. We don't want to have to hurt you."

The woman scoffed. After looking over to Daryl and Hershel, she warily responded, voice low. "They were dropped by an Asian guy and a girl. They were taken."  
All three tensed. Rick stepped closer, his voice urgent. "By who?"

"By the same son of a bitch who shot me," she growled. "There's a town not far from here - Woodbury. About seventy survivors with paramilitary wannabes defending the place. Led by a man they call the Governor."

"Can you get us in?"

She nodded.

"How'd you find this place."  
The woman shrugged. "Overheard the Asian guy talking. Said it was north and a straight shot."

Rick looked at the other two men before responding, "Hershel here is the father of the girl taken. He'll take care of your leg."  
Nodding at Daryl, the two men strode back to the cell block, where they proceeded to gather up the group.

* * *

Daryl placed a bag into the trunk, shifting around its contents to make room for more. "We got the flash bangs and tear gas. Wouldn't hurt to bring them."

Oscar nodded. "There's another bag left inside."  
Scooting a pack to the side, Daryl responded, "I got it."

As he walked towards the door, he passed Carl, who had just finished helping them pack up for their rescue mission. He paused to place a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry about your dad. I'll bring him back."

Carl nodded up at him with a small thankful smile. He seemed better already after recovering from he and Bella's reunion. Daryl was sure as hell not going to allow him to become fatherless also.

When he reached Carol, she gave him a light, playful shove. "Better not do anything stupid out there," she said.

Daryl snorted at the woman. "Since when have I ever?"

June and the others were on the other side of the courtyard, so he'd say bye on his way back to the car. Striding up the steps, he entered the empty common space. He saw the bag lying against the door, but he hesitated before heading to the cell block.

It was quiet for the most part, but he could hear the faint lilt of her voice coming from the cell. Slowly walking up to her door, he saw her sitting up on her bed, knees bent up. She was cooing at the baby, who was propped up by her thighs. Ass-kicker was reaching out with her little arms, seemingly bemused by the noises coming out of Bella's mouth.

As she made silly faces at the baby, Daryl spoke up at the doorway. "You're gonna scare Little Ass-kicker if you keep crossin' your eyes like that."

Bella squinted up at him. Deadpanned, she said, "It's the concussion."

Daryl snorted, a chuckle escaping. It was hard for her to look up at him with the light shining from behind, so he moved to the opposite wall and stood beside the bed. Looking over Bella's shoulder, Daryl could see the baby's chubby face and pale blue eyes. Somehow, Ass-kicker seemed to look bewildered by the two of them.

"Headin' out," said Daryl. "Should be back by the mournin'."

Bella looked up at him briefly before looking back at the baby. Her green eyes were already focusing on him, much more improved than when he first found her. She lightly bounced the baby with her legs, but her expression was serious. "Alright. But we don't know what kind of people these are. They took the others. Don't let them take you, too."

Daryl looked down at her, feeling worry simmering in his chest. It surprised him how much it _ached._ He just got her back and leaving her now just didn't sit right with him. He tried not to let it show. It was stupid, he thought. It wasn't a big deal. This was a quick in-and-out kind of mission. Still, he couldn't help but add, "You stay safe, alright? No runnin' around."  
She nodded. Her damp hair was already curling back up again, and he could see her black flowers creeping up her arm. Lightly, she said, "Just don't make me come out there to find your ass."

Daryl reached over to lightly pat Ass-kicker before heading to the door. "Then we'll be even."

She snorted, shaking her head. When he looked back at her, she was watching unblinkingly from the shadows of her cell. She simply lifted up her hand, waving slightly.

Responding with a final wave, Daryl gazed at her with a finality that scared him, unconsciously storing this picture of her inside him before heading back to the waiting group.


	27. The Suicide King

Daryl and Rick trekked through the forest beside one another. They stood in the back of their small rag-tag group, more to keep an eye on the latest newcomer than anything. Daryl didn't know much about her except for the fact that she's weird as hell for carrying around a sword - a katana, as she called it. But she certainly knew how to use if the way she sliced through walkers had anything to say about it.

He was initially against towards allowing Oscar and Axel to stay. But, Daryl admitted, they had proved their good intentions countless of times and ended up being useful. They were one of them now. Whether this woman could become another member of the club was too soon to tell, but Daryl didn't see anything off about her - at least yet. Still, he certainly wasn't going to be comfortable with her staying around the cell block with the kids, Bella, and the rest.

"Hey."

Daryl glanced briefly at Rick, who was staring ahead of them towards the front of the group. When Rick continued, he talked low but with a sincerity. "I appreciate what you did for the baby and the group while I was… sorting things out. You didn't have to, but you did. Thank you."

The two men never really spoke much about anything that didn't have to do with planning for the group's survival. They hardly spoke about their lives beforehand or about their lives now. They just got on with it, ever since Rick had first stepped foot into that camp long ago.

However, the mutual, unspoken understanding they had didn't go unnoticed by either. Daryl never thought about fighting Rick's leadership or even about leaving. He knew that some things were futile and pointless. It was hardly necessary to fight against Rick, and Daryl wasn't going to waste his breath doing so. Plus, Daryl rarely ever needed to seriously question Rick's choice. So, this somehow involved into a relationship that didn't need to be defined. Without question, Daryl knew that Rick, and everyone else in the group, had his back, and same for the other.

"It's what we do."

Like usual, they both understood.

* * *

Bella leaned on her shoulder against the wall as she gazed out of the window longingly. She hadn't been outside in days from before she got separated from everybody else. She could hardly even be inside the cell block without getting a headache from the lights, so she hadn't even attempted leaving the door.

The sun was going down, its rays softer than before. She could barely see Carl and Carol as they stood guard close to the gate. As soon as she was able, Bella had left her cell to look outside. After her recovery, Bella decided, she'd take a walk out in the forest. It felt surreal to live in this metal brick after practically living out there for months.

She glanced back at the cell she had temporarily resided in. Her balance and overall health had improved exponentially since coming back to food and water, so she decided she'd sleep in her own bed tonight.

Pushing herself off of the wall, she saw that the others were crowded around Beth, who carried baby Judith in her arms. From what Bella could tell, Beth had become the Judith's caretaker, and the young girl seemed to absolutely adore the baby. June sat beside her, reaching over to play with the baby's little arms.

Axel, who Bella had just met, walked over and lightly sat on the other side of Beth. "You're pretty good with her."  
Beth smiled sheepishly at the older man. "Thank you," she said before focusing her attention back on the little bundle.

"How old are you again?" Aghast, Bella gaped at the man.

"Seventeen."  
Axel leaned back, taking Beth in. "Interesting."  
Bella gasped, unintentionally loud. The three looked up at her, and, tight-lipped, she said strained, "Axel, can I speak with you?"

The blonde man walked up to her, eyes earnest. While he seemed harmless and almost naive, she assumed that's probably how he ended up in prison in the first place. Still, she wasn't in a place to judge about past mistakes.

They moved to the side, away from the kids' ears. She whirled back and poked Axel in the chest with a threatening finger. "You stay away from the Beth, you hear me? And don't even think about June."

Axel, at least, looked a bit ashamed. "I'm sorry, m'am." Bella couldn't help but feel satisfied by him addressing her as such. "It's just I haven't seen a woman in ages - months. Maggie's with Glenn. Carol's a lesbian. And you're with Daryl."

Bella looked positively scandalized. She reared back a bit, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. It seemed to make the man nervous, as he anxiously rubbed his moustache.

She shook her head a bit, exhaling slowly. "First, of all, Carol's not a lesbian. And Daryl and I are not together." Just saying that felt weird. "Why would you think that?"

Axel awkwardly gestured as his head weakly. "'Cause she's got that short hair."  
Christ. Bella exasperatedly ran her hand through her hair. "Not about Carol."

"Oh." He blinked at her before waving his arm vaguely in the air. "Y'know. I wasn't there for most of it, but Daryl - he just seemed really riled up to go look for you and about your funeral." Funeral? Okay, that was something that she was definitely going to ask about later. "And y'all seem pretty close, so I just of assumed."

Bella just shook her head, still reeling from his assumption.

She didn't know what exactly Daryl and she were. Definitely not like siblings. The idea of that was even weirder. For sure not lovers, unless she missed out on some vital acts. The best, and simplest, term she could think of was just friends. Still, that word felt empty and meaningless. It wasn't the same from before, where friends were just people she simply had fun with or knew random facts about. In fact, that term might be obsolete in this world. You either had people who would leave you, kill you, or die for you. She may not know Daryl's favorite color, but she knew he would die for her, and vice versa. After over eight months of being together, it was the same for everybody in the group, but Bella recognized that her and Daryl had something more.

But the idea of romance just seemed far-fetched. Bella wasn't the kind of person to believe in love, not after knowing firsthand how toxic it can be.

While she didn't know what her and Daryl were exactly, one thing she did know for sure, however, was that she definitely was not looking for a relationship. Even before, she hadn't had a serious relationship ever since she took in June, and she never wanted one. June and her career were always her focus. Now, it was June and their survival. To go googly eyes for any man and to add someone else to worry about, especially now, did not seem appealing to her at all. It might never be a good time, but, right now, that was fine by her.

Axel seemed completely oblivious to her ponderings. Instead, he stared at her appreciatively, much to her consternation. "You're not with Daryl?" He leaned against the wall. "Interesting."

This conversation, despite having lasted only a minute or so, had been too much. Her head was throbbing, a dull ache behind her eyes.

In response, Bella just looked at him, sighed, and walked away. She needed sleep.

* * *

"On your feet. Move!" Voices came through the wall Daryl and the others were currently hiding behind, and the sound of their footsteps were clearly getting closer.

Daryl threw down his bag, and they quickly grabbed the flash bangs and gas. In unison, they threw them towards the oncoming group of people than included Maggie and Glenn. As soon as bangs and smoke filled up the space, Daryl lunged in the group, pushing back one shocked man. It wasn't long before he found Glenn, who's head was covered with a sack. Grabbing him with one arm, Daryl heaved him out of there once he saw Maggie found by Rick.

Without stopping, Daryl pushed Glenn in front of him as he yanked the sack off of his head. The man had clearly seen better days. Bruises littered his puffy, swollen face and blood was trickling down his nose. The people here did not play around. As if to confirm this, shots struck close around them, hitting the walls fruitlessly as they ran out.

They ran back out into the now-empty streets with the soft glow of lamplights exposing them in the night. Daryl immediately headed toward a blue door leading into a building with dark windows. Hoping for the best, he kicked it down while the others followed close behind.

They began to scope the empty floor as soon as they entered, Maggie and Glenn tumbling down on the floor. While Maggie tended to the shirtless Glenn, she asked quickly, "Where did that woman go?"

Rick swore, peeking through the curtains. "Doesn't matter. She's on her own now."

"Daryl," gasped out Glenn. "This was Merle. He did this. Threw a walker at me and tried to execute us."

The tension that filled Daryl's body slowly seeped out. His face and grip on his crossbow went slack as he took that in. He tried to process this information as he slowly got out, "So my brother's this governor?"

Maggie spoke quickly as she wrapped Glenn with makeshift bandages. "No. He's his lieutenant or something."  
"Does he know I'm still with ya?"

Glenn, now wrapped around with a tablecloth, nodded. "He does now." Wincing, he spoke towards Rick, "He knows where the prison is. I'm sorry. I couldn't keep it in."  
"Don't be," said Rick seriously. "No need to apologize." Looking out the window, he said, "We need to circle around to the front - find out cars to get the hell out of here."

Daryl couldn't accept that. This was his brother. "Wait. If he's here, I need to speak with him."

Rick went up to his face, speaking urgently and forcefully. "Not now. We are in hostile territory."  
"He's my brother. I ain't -"  
"Look what he did." Rick looked around wildly. "You're not thinking straight. He isn't going anywhere. But we can't stick around, not right now. Glenn's injured - we need to get him out. I need you." Rick looked at him tensely. "Are you with us?"

Daryl's jaw clenched, but he didn't hesitate. "I am."

* * *

June absentmindedly flipped through the pages of her journal, the soft rustling of the sheets soothing and familiar. The parchment was soft and thin to the touch – the weeks spent in the water tower open to the weather made it brittle and crinkly. Some pages had the ink smeared beyond recognition, but most of it remained untouched.

She wasn't really reading her words. Instead, she gazed at her scrawls and occasional sketches that filled up half of the book. June had just finished updating the events up to today – Day 310, give or take. She had tried to maintain a sense of time back in the water tower, but once they were uprooted, it was harder to keep up. But according to the prisoner with the mustache, Axel, it was day three hundred ten.

She flexed her fingers, still feeling them ache from writing for the past hour or so. The moonlight provided the only source of light for her to write with in the night. Typically, the group would only use the lights for emergencies to preserve energy – but lately, that had been almost every day.

June aimlessly reached up to her hair and pulled on a curly strand. It immediately bounced back into place. She had lately been wearing her hair down, letting the curls fall to a natural afro. Typically, she would pull it back into something more manageable like a bun, but it felt nice to let it fly loose. Bella always preferred June's hair like this, and June decided she was outgrowing her buns.

She glanced towards her mother's direction. Bella had gone to sleep in their cell a few hours ago. Finally. She should've slept as soon as she got back, but with that woman coming in and everything happening, Bella had wanted to be a part of it – as usual. Even from before, Bella always had always wanted to do everything herself. Perhaps it's simply what she was always used to.

June had come to recognize that as she grew older. Bella never wanted her to worry about anything, so often, she wouldn't tell June her financial or personal problems. At least, not until after she had already resolved it.

Ironically, instead of having June not worry about these things, it caused June to worry more. Bella never complained, but it made June want to step up more. She'd offer to cook dinner or clean up the house. Little things that a twelve-year-old could do. Now, it's Bella trusting June to protect herself when she can't be there and teaching June to essentially survive alone, if need be.

So, when a woman's scream pierced the cell block, June strode up to Hershel with a hand on her holster.

"Was that Carol?" Carl was also tensely standing with his own weapon in hand.

June shook her head, her tight curls bouncing around. "She's out with Axel on watch." She grabbed one of the emergency flashlights.

"People may have entered the same way those civilian walkers have," spoke Hershel. "There are holes in this prison we haven't had time to look for. You should go tell your mother."

"If we tell her about it, she'll go off on her own no matter what we say. She'd hardly be able to aim and take down walkers or people in the dark," insisted June as she pulled out her gun. "I'll go check."

Before Hershel could argue against it, Carl also nodded. "I'll go with you." He looked at Hershel seriously. "My father would do it."

The old man sighed heavily as he leaned against his crutch. He then frowned at June. "Your mother would have my other leg if she learned I let you go."

A small smile broke through June's face. "Well, you do have the other set of keys if you gotta – ya know – lock her up."

Hershel chuckled. "I'll just tell her you kids tripped me. That's all she needs to know."

The prison halls were relatively empty. Carl and June ran in only to a handful of lone walkers, and easily dispatched them with their silencers. They had gotten rid of most of them back when they were searching for Bella.

From what they could tell the screaming and shouting was coming from the north side of the prison. Their group has hardly been to that section. Everything they needed – infirmary, cafeteria, etc. – had been where they were in the south side. But as they passed signs and maps, June realized they were heading toward the administrative section.

The shouting and snarls grew louder as the two kids ran closer. There was debris and dust littering the floor. Cracks were growing along the walls, until it eventually became holes and gapes.

Eventually, they turned a corner. They froze as they took in their surroundings. There was no ceiling or wall separating the prison's front office from the outside. Huge chunks of cement and metal were strewn across the floor, hardly leaving any flat surface to walk on.

There were around half a dozen people fighting the walkers that were trying to stumble in. Occasionally, a walker would find stable enough ground or be able to violently fling themselves into the room. June could see half of the strangers were on the floor, bent over someone who was limp and probably unconscious – maybe dead.

Carl and June raised their guns and shot down walkers that were creeping up on the new group. Startled, they stared at the kids.

"Come on," yelled Carl.

The group didn't hesitate as they scrambled towards them. The two immediately started running towards their cell block, occasionally glancing behind them to make sure they were keeping up. June ended up falling back to take up the rear. As soon as they passed a door, she immediately shut it, preventing the walkers from entering the rest of the prison.

From the back, she could see there were only five people: two men, two woman – one unconscious, and a boy maybe a few years older than her. They didn't seem to be in much of a state to fight back, but June still had her gun in her hand.

As soon as they reached the common space, June shut the door behind her and locked it up. The strangers were bent over the woman, who was clearly now dead. Her brown eyes were still and unseeing. June could see the bite on her arm still oozing.

She made eye-contact with Carl, and the two quietly moved toward their cellblock. As soon as Carl closed the gate, June locked it up. The noise didn't go unnoticed, and the strangers looked up.

One of them, a young woman, stormed up to the gate and rattled it angrily. "Hey," she shouted, hands still gripped on the bars. Her eyes were wild, and her muscles were tense. "Open this door."

Carl shook his head. "We can't."  
"Kid," she seethed. "You can't do this to us." She spotted Hershel in the back, the only adult as far as she could see. "Hey, let us out!"

"The doors are locked – you'll be safe," insisted June.

The woman looked almost deranged. But June knew she was just desperate. Before she could start yelling at them, a large man with a beanie strode up to the woman. His voice was deep, calming timber. "Sasha, look around." He gestured towards the large room. "We haven't had it this good in weeks."

He gazed at the woman until walked away, breathing in deeply. He casted a critical, yet not unkind look toward June and her group before giving a small nod and joining Sasha.

* * *

When the sack was first removed from Daryl's head, and he took in the shocked expression of Merle's face, he initially wasn't sure if this was real. He had a hard time comprehending what Glenn had said earlier.

It's not that Daryl didn't expect for Merle to have bled out and died long ago in Atlanta. It's just Daryl was used to him leaving. Merle always left when things got too hard, too much of a nuisance to handle. It wasn't a new feeling when Daryl had followed Merle's trail, knowing he had left.

But it was like when his mother died – it didn't feel real. Before, his brother would either give a quick, empty goodbye or call a couple days later. But with his brother leaving during an apocalypse to who knows where without a sign or clue, Daryl never particularly grasped the idea of seeing Merle again.

The blinding lights shining down at them and the loud jeers and screams from the spectators didn't help much. It was disorienting to take this all in, especially after being hit in the head by some asshole. Daryl didn't know where Rick and the others were, but right now, that didn't matter.

So, seeing his brother's face and his make-shift arm, Daryl thought this could've been another hallucination. Like when he saw Merle back on the farm after getting stabbed by his own arrow. But Daryl wasn't the kind of person to fool himself of these things, and it wasn't long till he recognized that this was very real.

Forcing himself to take in the situation, Daryl saw that he and his brother were surrounded by men with guns. He noted a man in a red plaid shirt that carried his crossbow. There were stands on one side that were filled with armless civilians. To his shock, he could see the very much alive Andrea, standing alive and healthy beside the guy with an eye patch who was bellowing at the crowd.

"These two," he roared, circling the brothers like a vulture. "Are responsible for the attack on Woodbury." He, who Daryl assumed was the Governor he's heard so much about, paused as he took in the crowd's obviously frenzied state. "So, what shall we do?"

The Governor basked in the screams before declaring, "They shall fight to the death!"

This man, decided Daryl, was shit. As soon as he thought that, more men appeared around them. This time, they held walkers to a leash which they slowly began to close in on the two.

Merle quickly got over his shock. To Daryl's disbelief, his brother started grinning and brandishing the knife attached to his arm. "Y'all know who I am," crowed Merle. "I am with Woodbury, and this man over here-" He pointed at Daryl, who was outright glaring at him. "-Is nothing."  
Without further ado, Merle hurtled toward Daryl, knocking them both to the ground. The two struggled to gain the advantage. Daryl hurled a punch into Merle's side, breaking his grasp. But before Daryl could move away, Merle launched himself back on top of Daryl.

"You really-" gasped Daryl "-think that asshole is goin' to let you go?"

Merle strained against Daryl's attempt to heave Merle off of him "Just follow my lead, little brother," he said, right before he punched Daryl in the face.

Groaning, Daryl rolled away onto his feet. He looked at his brother warily. He blocked out the bloodthirsty crowd as he tried to figure a way out of this. They were completely surrounded and would be gunned down two seconds after running. The best option, Daryl decided as Merle once again began to charge his way back, would be to grab the Governor as hostage.

But once the two hit the ground once more, Daryl heard a loud bang disrupt the jeers and shouting. He saw a body fall down from the corner of his eye.

Immediately, he grabbed Merle and hoisted both of them up. Smoke was already filling up the air as Daryl lunged towards the man in the red plaid. Knocking him down, Daryl yanked back his crossbow before sprinting towards the direction of the shots with his head down and Merle close behind.

* * *

Judith's warbling cries stir Bella awake. Even before she opened her eyes, Bella knew she had been asleep for a long time – probably the longest sleep she's had in months. Her eyes were puffy and stiff, and her body felt heavy and slow. Her mouth was dry, and her temple had a dull ache. In all, she felt like shit.

She slowly sat up, her muscles aching and joints groaning in response. Bella cracked her neck before leaning over to grab her discarded jeans. Eyes bleary, she shrugged them on, her foot briefly getting caught in one of the holes. She buttoned them up, but since they were a bit large, she secured the waist with a belt and rolled up the bottoms. She tucked in her "The Black Angels" band t-shirt into her pants before tying up her boots.

Running her hand through her hair in a futile attempt to detangle her hair, Bella walked out of her cell with her bow strung across her back. Immediately, she saw Carl and June sitting on "the perch" – aka where Daryl slept on the walkway – with Judith in Carl's lap.

Before she reached them, Bella heard a deep, unfamiliar voice echo through the cell block. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, she had her arrow notched in her bow in a heartbeat. Before she could creep down the stairs, June had already reached her, a suspiciously sheepish expression on her face.

After Bella sternly reprimanded June and Carl for "recklessly abandoning the block for leaving with no thought or care for her sanity" for the next half an hour, she reached for Judith, who had been staring with a fixed fascination throughout the lecture.

"You see," sniffed Bella. "Even she is shocked by your two's stupidity."

"Or," spoke June hesitantly, wary of setting off her mother. "She's just hungry. It's time for her meal."  
Bella casted a scathing look at June before huffing and going down the stairs, the baby tucked in her arms. The two kids followed close behind, and Bella waited for Carl to unlock the door.

Hershel, Beth, Carol, and Axel were sitting around the room with the new group. No one seemed tense or hostile from either group, and when Bella walked in with the baby, she saw the strangers' faces soften.

As Bella headed to the cabinet with Judith's formula, Bella politely, albeit a bit distantly, introduced herself and the baby. She was hardly in a good mood, and her headache still hadn't receded.

She reached for the little bottle and felt someone approach her slowly from the side. Bella instinctively tensed, but she didn't pause from gently nudging the baby to accept the bottle's teat.

"She's precious." It was the woman. She was tall and young and spoke softly. June and Carl had already said that these people weren't threatening and that they were still recovering from a loss of their own. Still, Bella only felt vaguely appeased by her words.

Bella gave a small, closed smile and said, "Thank you."

"We never thought we'd see a baby again," said a burly man sitting at one of the tables. Bella recognized his deep voice and couldn't help but think about how he would be a nice baritone singer.

"Are you feeling okay?" The woman – Sasha, June had said – looked at Bella with her eyes wide and concerned. Sasha's voice was intentionally soft, as if trying hard to be gentle.

Her attention freaked Bella out a bit, until she realized what Sasha was implying. Blinking, Bella shook her head. "She isn't mine."

That answer was enough. The somber implication caused a low cloud to fall over everybody. Taking advantage of the pause, Bella focused on Carl next to her, who was looking firmly at Judith. Bella adjusted the angle of the bottle before nudging Carl with her hip. "C'mon," she said quietly. "Let's go outside. I haven't been in ages."

The two walked out, and Bella relished in the sun's rays that warmed up her bones. Being in the prison for these past few days had made her gain a rather gaunt, pale appearance. In her delirious state, she had hallucinated that she was out on the forest. Often just hunting. Sometimes June was there. Or Daryl. She could hardly remember anything except just the feeling of the sun and the smell of the trees.

Granted, this cement basketball court was hardly the great outdoors, but she immediately felt loads better. She and Carl walked quietly to the edge of the fence, where the two sat down.

Bella still felt rather lethargic, and the warmth in her body was hardly helping. Stifling a yawn, she handed Judith over to Carl, who immediately gathered her in her arms. He looked down at his baby sister with obvious care, and it warmed and saddened Bella even more.

"She might be the only family I'll have left."

Bella jolted as she took the words in. "Your father will be back." She spoke just as quietly but with her eyes fixed on Carl. "He's with Daryl and Oscar. Nothing can keep them away."

He looked up at her, eyes serious and resolute. "But you don't know that. Nobody can."

Sighing, she studied him. Carl's gaze never faltered, nor did his steadfast expression. With an ache in her heart, she realized he had grown. She came back to a different, tougher Carl. "You're right," she admitted. "But we can't live as if they're already gone. Nobody's gone till their gone."

He looked out towards the prison. "Mom's gone. I shot her." Bella felt as if the air was knocked out of her chest. "I had to. She was gone."

The two didn't say anything for a bit. The only noise came from Judith's gurgling as she happily waved her arms up at Carl. A breeze wafted through, sending in the fresh air Bella had yearned to breathe. But she was too deep in thought as she processed Carl's words.

"You know," Bella said, voice low. "That that doesn't make you a bad person. Or that what you did was wrong."

Carl didn't say anything, so she continued. "It shouldn't have been you. But what you had to do, you did it because she was your mother. She was family. And you did it out of love."

"It isn't much." Bella tapped against her thigh. "But it's something. In this world, to go out from somebody we love, if we can't do it ourselves, is the best thing we can hope for." She looked down at him insistently, forcing him to meet her gaze. "She loved Judith and you so much. And she knew you loved her too."  
"It isn't much," Bella repeated. "But in the end, it's everything."

Carl swallowed as he shook his head. "But did she know? I treated her terribly before it happened."

Bella frowned. "Hey. She knew. And you know it too. You just can't think like that."

Before they could speak more, they heard the familiar sound of gravel crunching under tires. They waited with abated breath, Bella standing partly in front of Carl with one hand in front of him protectively. But to their relief, a familiar green car rode up to the gate.

* * *

By the time Daryl, Rick, Maggie, and Merle reached the highway, the sun was already starting to rise. The birds were chirping, and the dark sky was beginning to have orange seeping through. Daryl could see the familiar green car along the edge of the road, right where they left it.

"Glenn," shouted Rick. Daryl could see Glenn and the woman through the trees as they rushed towards them.

Rick immediately began to speak fast, hand outstretched. "Hey now, we got a problem here. I need you to back up."

It was then that the two noticed their newest addition to the group. The reaction was immediate: the woman had unsheathed her sword in one fluid motion and Glenn had his gun cocked and ready to shoot. They started shouting over Rick, who was unsuccessfully attempting to push them back. Daryl immediately pushed Glenn away when he got close, refusing to just let him shoot his brother.

"Hey," shouted Daryl. "Without him we wouldn't be here."  
Rick, who was pointing a gun at the woman, shot back, "Yeah, right after he beat the shit out of you."

Whose side was he on? But Merle had to open his fat mouth. "Hey, we both took our licks."

Scoffing, Daryl shot back a "jackass" towards his brother.

But when he turned around, he saw Glenn still pointing the gun at his face. Something inside him - something that hadn't surfaced in months – snapped. He remembered all the times before Glenn, Rick, and all the others had pointed the gun at his face, as if he was some wild animal. "Get that shit out of my face," he spat.  
Merle tsked behind him. "Looks like you've gone native, brother."

Annoyance flared back up again. This whole situation was shit, and Daryl had enough. "No more hangin' out with that psycho back there. You hear me?"

Merle chortled. "That man's a charmer - I'll give you that. Certainly got Andrea under his spell."

"What?" Glenn stared at him with distrust. "Andrea's alive?"

Daryl nodded, his body still tense as he stood with his head hunched. "Right next to the Governor."

The woman with the sword suddenly lunged towards Merle but was quickly pushed back by Rick. "Stop that," Rick growled. "Do you know Andrea?"

She stared at him, nostrils flaring as she refused to answer. Instead, Merle's voice, which Daryl was already getting sick of, joyfully broke through. "Yeah, she does. Her and blondie spent the whole winter cuddling up together in the forest. We snagged them up from the woods with Andrea close to dyin'."

"By the Governor?" asked Maggie, one arm around Glenn.

"Mm-hm," drawled out Merle. "So, what you gonna do now, Sheriff? Huh? Surrounded by a bunch of liars, thugs, and cowards."  
"Shut up," spat Rick, not even looking behind him as he continued to stare down the woman.

"This is pathetic," snorted Merle. "All guns but no bullets."  
"Merle," snapped Daryl. "Shut the hell up."  
That riled his brother up. "Man, don't you pussies ever tell me to-"

With one precise hit on the head from the back of Rick's gun, Merle's unconscious body fell to the floor.

"Asshole," muttered Rick.

"Look," insisted Daryl. "The Governor is probably already on the way to the prison. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle."

Glenn scowled. "You really want him sleeping in the same space as Bella? June? Carol?"

He clenched his hand around the strap of his crossbow. Daryl forced himself to keep calm. He hadn't lost it like he had earlier in months. But today was really challenging him. "He ain't no rapist."

"Well, his buddy is," growled Glenn.

"After last night," cut in Rick. "The others won't accept him in the prison."  
Daryl shook his head in disbelief. "So you gonna just cut him loose and bring back the last samurai? We don't know who she is." He saw her glance up, but Daryl didn't give a damn. "But Merle – Merle's blood."

"No. Merle's is your blood. My blood – my family – is standing right here and back at the prison."

"And you're a part of that family," added Rick, looking at Daryl. He pointed at Merle, who was off dicking around in the forest. "But he isn't."

Daryl breathed in slowly. "Fine. We'll fend for ourselves." Ignoring the three's protests, he continued, "It was always us two before this."

Glenn stared at him incredulously. "So, you're just going to leave like that? What do we tell Bella?"

Daryl clenched his jaw. He thought about how he last saw her, sitting in the cell. He could barely see her face, something he regretted now, but he remembered her emerald eyes glinting in the dark. He wasn't unnerved by them anymore.

 _"If June were to suddenly decide she wanted to just leave, you would just go? Just like that?"_

 _"For June? I'll do anything. I'll never leave her behind."_

He tapped against his crossbow's strap before looking resolutely at Glenn. "She'll understand." But it was then he realized that he would never get to say bye or maybe ever see her again – any of them. He could feel his resolve slipping. Knowing he needed to leave now, he pushed through them and began to stalk toward the car. "Say good-bye to your pops for me."

Daryl opened the trunk and began to rifle for his pack. He wouldn't take too many supplies, just whatever he had already. Rick had followed him persistently, much to Daryl's consternation. "It doesn't have to be like this. You know we started something last night?"

Daryl sighed, pausing to look up at the man who he would call his friend. "I can't leave him. Not again. That's all I can say."

The silence Rick gave him was enough to answer the question. "Watch over the others. Make sure Bella doesn't go psycho bitch anymore." Daryl slammed the trunk shut, suppressing any doubts that were creeping its way up. "Take care of yourself, of little Ass-kicker, and Carl."

Hoisting his pack up around his shoulders, Daryl looked at Rick, who was staring at him with something like shock. "He's one tough kid."

At that, Daryl turned his back towards Rick and walked off into the forest with Merle – ignoring the festering ache in his chest.

* * *

Carl gently placed Judith back in Bella's arms. "Wait here. You shouldn't be running." At that, he ran up to the gate, Bella frowning behind him as she shifted around the fussing baby.

She watched from afar as she saw people slowly clamber out of the car. She recognized Rick as he embraced Carl. She could see Glenn and Maggie, along with the sword-wielding woman.

Slightly alarmed, Bella took a step forward as she squinted at them.

No Oscar. No Daryl.

She felt like she could hardly breathe as she watched them close the gate behind the car, meaning they weren't expecting anybody else to follow behind. Her fingers tapped nervously against Judith, who gazed up at Bella. She walked briskly forward to meet with Rick.

"Where's Daryl?" she demanded in a low voice, a fierce expression on her face.

Rick slowly approached her, as if she was a wild animal. He held out a calming hand which he set on her shoulder. "He's okay," he stated, but with his head down. But Bella wasn't satisfied as she intensely stared at him. Rick looked back up as he continued, "We ran into his brother."

Bella froze as she took that in. It brought more questions and confusion. But what Rick said, with a finality and clenched jaw, shut the stream of questions closed. "They went off."

She blinked at him in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowed. Besides that and a small, almost indiscernible frown, Bella didn't show the inner shock that was coursing through her. She held Judith close to her as she instinctively gazed out into the forest, as if expecting him to break through the tree line.

"We couldn't let Merle come back with us to the prison," explained Rick, his head low as he tried to get Bella to look back at him. "His brother was the one who took Maggie and Glenn in the first place and would've killed them if we hadn't gone there first."  
At that, Bella met his gaze. She looked at him intensely, her eyes wide and unwavering. But as she took in his words, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It was hard to perceive what she was thinking or feeling, but she slowly nodded, much to Rick's relief.

"And Oscar?" asked Carl. He gently took back Judith, giving Bella respite to process her thoughts.

Rick let go of his grasp on Bella's shoulder and heavily shook his head.

Slowly, he guided the two and Judith back to the prison, as Bella began to feel something akin to grief.


	28. Home

Bella's hand moved across the page at an alarming rate. The rest of her was almost stiff, her head tilted down toward the notebook as her eyes moved along with her writing.

It was messy, but it was something. Her music was hardly legible, but it rarely was to anybody else besides her. She was used to sporadically creating music on the spot, so - out of convenience more than anything - Bella often wrote in a shorthand method of notes that typically only she would understand. She hardly ever had the patience to draw out the five lines of a staff every time she wanted to write a song. Usually, she would write out her notes on a blank sheet of paper.

She'd often pause to rest her head against the wall she was leaning one, eyes closed as her fingers played against her notebook. Imagining the piano beneath her fingers, she would hear the piece starting to take form.

This was her second notebook since the start. Before, she would just write whenever she had the chance. Sometimes it would be one day after another of writing – sometimes months. But now, it was all she had to carry her through the days. There was hardly any books or other source of entertainment. She'd either be writing or listening to her iPod - whenever it was charged, at least.

Bella's head had started to ache, but she didn't falter. It felt good to distract her from whatever the hell was happening out there. Rick had disappeared for some much-needed alone time after yelling at Sasha and Tyreese's group to leave. The rest were going to meet up soon to discuss their options for Woodbury, but for now, she was going to sit in her cell and write.

But June's loud sigh interrupted her thoughts. Sitting on Bella's bed, June was tapping her foot against the floor rapidly. She was frowning at the ground, clearly upset. Before Bella could ask, June flatly asked, "Why did he have to leave?"

Exhaling slowly, Bella closed her notebook. Lightly placing her pen on the ground, she simply said, "Family."

"But we are his family," insisted June. She joined Bella on the floor. "And his brother sounds like a shitty person."  
Bella shot her a glare. June corrected herself, though not apologetic in the slightest. "- a bad person."

"It might be more complicated than that. We've never met Merle before, so we shouldn't be quick to judge."

June refused to back down. "He hurt Glenn and Maggie. And from what Carol had said about what Merle was like when he was still with them, he sounded terrible."

Sighing, Bella looked back up at the ceiling. "Sometimes, it's hard to leave somebody, especially when you love them. It makes you blind, and it's often easier to just go with it. No matter how much it hurts." Voice gentle, she met June's eyes. "You know that I know that more than most."

June frowned, but her look was softer. "But you left him. You were strong. You are strong."  
Bella reached over to lightly fluff June's curls. "No. You made me strong enough. You made it worth it."

June sighed. "Well then, aren't we worth it?"

Bella didn't have the heart to answer her.

* * *

It had hardly been two hours since Daryl had split from the group, and already, it felt like ass. Not just because he was slowly processing the idea of never seeing any of them again, or that they still had to fight the Governor off without him. But also, he had to handle his brother's no-shit attitude and go back to wiping his ass with leaves.

Daryl didn't ask about Merle why he had left in the first place or how he even ended up here. That stuff didn't matter anymore, and he wasn't going to dignify Merle by asking. Daryl had done alright without him – more than alright, despite what Merle might say with his big mouth. And Merle sure as hell wasn't going to grace him with any questions about how Daryl had been these past nine months.

So, they settled back into the routine they had from before: hunting. But the two hadn't found anything since they left. It felt a bit strange to hunt with someone other than Bella. It had always been them two with their own system. After almost a year of doing that nonstop, it was easy as breathing.

He remembered when he once thought hunting with her would be an inconvenience.

Now, he had to deal with his loud-ass brother who had stopped their search by taking a piss on a tree.

Eyes out towards the trees, Daryl muttered, "We'd have better luck stoppin' by some of them houses we passed by earlier."

Merle snorted. "Is that all your friends taught you. How to loot for booty?"

Daryl leaned back against a tree, crossbow in his hands. "I'm just sayin. We've been at it for hours and hadn't found shit. We should find the stream and get some fish."

He heard Merle make his way back, leaves being kicked around. "I think your just tryin' to make our way to the prison."  
"Wouldn't be a bad idea," murmured Daryl, not glancing over. Pushing himself away from the tree, he raised up his crossbow and peered through the scope as he scanned the trees. "Shelter, food, water."  
"For you maybe," scoffed Merle. "Besides, they all dead."

Daryl stilled, before lowering his bow. "Why you say that?"

"Because right now-" drawled Merle. "- the Governor is throwin' a little housewarmin' party for your pals. They as good as dead."

* * *

Glenn leaned over the ground, white chalk in his hand. His thumb was rubbing the dust off as he intensely stared at the layout of the prison he had just drawn out.

"So, you said that Tyreese's group came from over here?"

Bella stood beside him, hands on her hips as she tilted her head. They were both frowning down at it, while June and Carl sat across from them. The younger girl nodded as she said, "Right where the administrative part of the building is at the north. We saw that the whole ceiling and front wall had collapsed."

Bella bit her lip as she squatted down, joining the other three. Balancing on her heels, she pointed a gloved hand toward the northern side. Chalk dust stuck to the tip of her finger. "But you found walkers outside of it over here? Even when the doors leading to the administration section were closed?"

Carl nodded.

Glenn sighed as he rubbed his temple, his eye still black and swollen. "We've secured most of the prison, but that means there's another breach. That's not including the giant hole in the prison."

"The whole northern side is vulnerable," muttered Bella, her chin resting on her fist. "People and walkers could push through – crowd us in."

"How are we even sure that the Governor is coming for us?" Beth looked around, eyebrows furrowed as she held Judith. "What if he decides to leave us alone?"

Michonne shook her head slowly. "The man had heads in his tank, both walkers and people of Woodbury. He's coming."  
Bella pursed her lips as a tense silence fell on the group, finger tapping on her thigh. They could fortify the northern side – use the debris already there to block exits and pathways. Make traps and use it to their advantage. But that would take days if not weeks. That would be something to do after the dust settles, if they're even still there.

They could run and make a break for it. Woodbury would never be able to find them again, and they could come back later when they were all recovered – maybe with even more people. Bella, personally, was not a big fan of the prison. They had lost more lives in the first one week than they had all winter, and she had almost joined the list.

But to leave now, with their group fractured and Rick unstable, could cause just as much harm. Furthermore, as much as the group had suffered here, even Bella could see the potential it had. They could make it into something stronger and thrive. It had food, defenses, watch points, a good location next to the forest and creek, and everything else necessary to flourish.

Plus, although she might not admit it even to herself, Daryl could come back.

"We should go to him."

Startled, Bella glanced up at Glenn, her hair spilling down over one shoulder from the movement. Ignoring the group's incredulous looks, he continued fiercely, "We sneak in and put a bullet in his head. He won't see it coming."

Speaking calmly for the group, Bella answered, "The war won't just end with him. We kill him like that in their own homes, they'll see us a threat. They'll make him a martyr, and someone else would just take over."

Hershel stepped up. "Last time you guys set out for Woodbury, he didn't know you were coming. Oscar was killed. Daryl was captured. And you and Maggie were almost executed." He sighed, shaking his head. "Our numbers are small as it is. You and Bella aren't even fully recovered, and neither is Rick. So many lives have been lost here. This place isn't worth anymore killing, so we should leave while we still can."

Glenn stood up, an intense and unforgiving expression on his face. "We lived on the road constantly running. We can't do that with you on crutches and a crying baby. We are staying here."

Bella joined Glenn, standing between him and Hershel. With the same low, firm voice she spoke with earlier, she asserted to Hershel, "We can't run with how we are now. Like you said, half of us are hardly in the right state to survive out there." But then she looked at Glenn, directing the next words to him and the group. "But that includes running to Woodbury. That's a suicide mission. We need to stay here where we can use and fortify the terrain."

She gestured to the map on the floor. "They don't know shit about this place, and we still have some flash bangs and gas to use to our advantage. We'll defend this place, and they sure as hell won't take it."

The group considered her words. To her relief, Glenn slowly nodded. "Fine. Carl and I will go to the tombs and scour the place for the breach. Bella, you and the rest can plan and fortify the prison."

She nodded. "You sure you don't need any one else to help down there?"

Glenn shook his head. "You need to stay here in case anything goes wrong."

As the two headed out to the tombs, Bella walked over to everyone else, the chalk rolling around in her palm. Squatting back to where the sketch of the prison was, Bella drew in more details regarding the cell block and the outside of the prison itself – including gates, watch towers, walkways, and courtyards. When she finished, she sat back on one leg, an arm resting on top of her other knee.

"If Woodbury just rolls up to our gates," started Bella. "Then we wouldn't be able to contain the fight outside. They'd knock over our fences and probably just drive straight up to our block."

June, who still sat on the floor next to the sketch, leaned over. "They could easily run up to the watch towers if determined, even if we have somebody there."

Carol, who sat at one of the tables, offered, "We could block up the walkways above the courtyards. We could use some scrap metal and wood as a shield, allowing a few of us to shoot down from up there."

Bella nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea." She drew in a thick line on either side of the walkway above the courtyard that is in front of their cell block. "The outside is too wide and open for just our group to fight a whole town. We'd easily get split up and overrun." She cocked her head, eyes scanning the white, dusty lines. "They know what the outside looks like. They'll scout it first if they're smart. So maybe, we'd just have to let them in."

June frowned. "No offense, but that sounds terrible. We'd be surrounded by them and walkers – which is exactly what we are trying to not let happen."

Bella waved her off. "The Governor and his men will storm in ready to gun us down. But they don't know the place, and they'd only know we'd be here in this cell block. If we go into the prison, just over here-" She pointed to the hallway connected to the common space. "We can take them by surprise. They'll be lost in the dark, confused."

Hershel leaned over her shoulder. "They'll be forced to go back to the cell block."

"They'd run out of the prison," she guessed. "Back out to the courtyard."

Carol nodded, a small smile on her face. "That's when the walkway could come in – as soon as they run out of the door, we'll take the rest out."

"Bingo," grinned June. "This ain't bad."

Bella frowned at the map, still unsatisfied. "We'll have to finetune some parts of the plan in case they split the group up and so forth. But until then, we'll fortify where we plan on hiding – the walkway and the hallway."

"Carol, you'll be in charge of the walkway. Take Axel with you." Bella looked up at the group, who were attentively listening to her commands. "The rest of us will prepare weapons and set up the hall."

But at that moment, the gated door crashed open, revealing a blood-soaked Carl and Glenn. Jumping up, Bella hastily made her way to Carl's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

Carl shook his head, locking up the gate. "The boiler room is overrun."

Checking Carl for injuries, she heard Beth say, "But that place had been secured."

Bella frowned at Carl, concern on her face. "You good?"

The boy nodded. Bella reluctantly focused back on to worked-up Glenn, who was currently arguing against Hershel about staying in the prison. "We are not leaving. I'll just scout out the back on my own."

With that, Glenn strode out of the cell block, the metal door clanging heavily behind him.

* * *

"What was that shit you did back there?" Daryl could hear Merle stalking after him, the twigs snapping underneath his brother's heavy stomps. "Huh? Pointin' your crossbow at me like I'm another walker?"

Daryl scowled but refused to slow down his pace. They weren't too far from the camp. As long as they continued to head north, they should be there in an hour. "Those people on the bridge were scared, man."

Merle scoffed. "They were rude as hell. We saved their asses from becomin' dinner. They should've let us leave with a token of gratitude."

"They don't owe us nothin'."

That set his brother off – again. Daryl could hear Merle's voice get louder as he caught up to him. "Oh, so you're just helpin' people from the good of your heart? Even if that means dyin'? Is that somethin' Sheriff Rick taught you?"

Daryl whirled around to meet his brother's hostile gaze. His heart was pounding, and he felt restless – anxious. He felt like he wanted to hit something, and he hadn't felt like this in a long time. He was like this when Merle was around, and it felt like shit. "There was a baby," he growled.

Merle scoffed. "Otherwise you would've left 'em for the biters, huh?"

Daryl stared at him incredulously, his bolt still in his hand. This is what this was about? Why this jackass refused to cease his complaints and insults? "I went back for you. You weren't there. You cut off your own hand and ran. That's on you. You asked for it."

Chuckling, Merle paced around restlessly. "You know what's funny?" He stopped and jabbed his stump at Daryl. "You are all about that group now, huh? Wantin' to run back, even when it means you are just gonna die along with the rest of 'em. Who is it that's makin' you want to leave your ol' brother behind?"

Daryl just stared back at him. The question shocked him, and even he didn't know how to respond to that. It mattered to him – a lot – to go back. He felt anxious and restless here. He needed to get back and help them fight. Daryl cared for the whole group, he knew that. But he just couldn't stop thinking about someone specifically, even if he won't admit it to himself.

Merle scoffed at his mute brother. "Don't matter. Because I bet you didn't tell 'em that we were plannin' on robbin' that camp blind."

That snapped Daryl out of it. The hot, festering shame flared back up inside him, causing him to inhale sharply. Voice low, he said, "It didn't happen."

"Because I wasn't there to help you."

"What, like when we were kid?" snarled Daryl. "Who left who then?"

Voice like gravel scraping against concrete, Merle shouted, "What? Is that why I lost my hand?"

Daryl shoved past him as he angrily said, "You lost your hand because you're a simpleminded piece of shit!"

Merle reached for him as he screamed, "You don't know-"

Daryl felt Merle tug on the back of his shirt hard. He instinctively leaned forward to prevent himself from flying back, but he could hear the loud, almost deafening rip of his shirt. Daryl could feel the air hit his bare back and could feel the stare of his brother, who was finally silent.

On-edge, Daryl threw around his pack around, covering his scars from Merle, who was stumbling out, "I didn't know he was-"

The anger and shame came back to him like old friends. The familiar feeling burned at him, as if reminding him that nothing has changed. "Yeah, he did." Daryl staggered up, not turning around. "He did the same to you. That's why you left first."

"I had to, man. I would've killed him first." Daryl, ignoring Merle, hoisted up his crossbow and began to stalk away. "Where you going?"

Daryl stopped. "Back to where I belong."  
Looking back, he saw Merle was wearing a strange expression, something Daryl has never really seen before. His brother had let go of his loud, boisterous persona and was now wearing something akin to fear. Maybe regret. "I can't go with you. I tried to kill two of your people. I just can't."

He was pleading, Daryl realized. It wasn't obvious, but he could see it, and it frustrated him. Shaking his head, he slowly said, "I may be the one walkin' away, but you're the one that's leavin' – again."

Daryl then turned his back and continued his way back to home.

* * *

Bella ran out after Glenn, who was stalking his way toward one of the cars. "Glenn," she called out. "Glenn!"

His whole body was tense as he slowed to a stop. Eye brows furrowed, Bella panted as she got out, "You're not going to Woodbury, are you?"

Tucking her loose hair behind her ear, she crossed her arms as she looked at him with concern. Glenn stiffly shook his head as he uttered out, "No. I'm just going out there."

Bella stared at him incredulously, her green eyes wide. Shaking her head, she settled back. "Fine. I'm coming with you."  
"No, you're staying here." His cold, stilted demeanor was getting to her. This wasn't him, and she wasn't going to let him run out alone.

"Glenn," she said seriously. "Going out alone is never a good idea, especially now. You went out for a formula run, and you and Maggie almost died."

Glenn bristled. "You're saying this was my fault?" He breathed heavily as he glared at her. "I did everything that I could!"

"I know that!" Bella breathed in deeply as she stared up at him earnestly. "Hershel knows that. _Maggie_ knows that."

Glenn scoffed at that, as he shook his head dejectedly. Warily, Bella continued, "Look, I don't know what happened back there. I don't know what's going on between the two of you, but I do know she still loves you. She just asked me to make sure you don't run off like this."

She shook his shoulders lightly, her eyes staring up at him beseechingly. "Glenn, you're family. You're like a brother to me, and I care about you. So, I'm telling you this: This rage is going to get you killed."

Glenn let out a long breath. Bella let go of him, as he responded in a somber voice, "Rick is wandering in crazytown, and Daryl is gone. You are still recovering and should be in bed right now. That just leaves me in charge."

He strode away from her without another word. Bella watched him drive away, exhausted. Messaging her temple, she closed her eyes as she took in slow, deep breaths. It felt like time was closing in on them, and that whatever was coming was coming soon. With the group spread out in all of these different directions, it would be impossible to hold this place down. Doubt crept in, and she began to consider the idea of the group leaving the prison behind.

Sighing, she pursed her lips as she gazed out towards the forest. Carl and Axel had already let Glenn drive out, where she could see him riding out towards the east. Scanning around, she made out Rick's unique gait as he trekked along the edge of the trees.

With a renewed determination, Bella began to hike down to him. She felt her rifle bumping against her hip and shoulder blades with every step. The group had agreed to be armed no matter where they were. They didn't know when an attack could happen, so they should be prepared.

She didn't mind shooting guns, and she was rather good at it. Learning to shoot with a bow where she'd have to consider wind, force, distance, and more made aiming with a gun simple. But they lacked the discretion and skill that came with archery. It's much more satisfying whenever her arrow hits its target. Besides, when she picked a bow over a gun years ago, she never entertained the thought that one day, she'd be fighting for her life.

Rick didn't seem to notice her when she approached the fence. He stood on the other side next to the creek, staring out at something that Bella couldn't see. Every now and then, he'd suddenly start off toward one direction before stopping again. She watched him for a bit, solemn and grave. Sweat dripped down his face, and his hair stuck against his neck. He had been out here for hours, and she hadn't seen him take a break since.

Finally, Bella raised a hand and clung onto the fence as she called out, "Rick."

He started, and she could see that he didn't realize it was her. She saw how his body tensed, and how his eyes immediately went to the forest. Right before he stalked towards the trees, she called out again, more insistently, "Rick!"

Rick stopped and slowly turned around. Meeting her gaze, he seemed to hesitate on whether he should approach her. Bella clenched the wired fence in her hands and stared at him, wide-eyed. As if daring him to walk away.

Head stooped, he trudged to her, stopping a couple feet away. Sounding rather distant, he stated, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Resisting the urge to scowl, she calmly said, "We are preparing for an attack. When are you coming back to us?"

Rick just looked down at his feet before looking back out at the forest. More forcefully, she said, "Glenn is on a warpath. He may be clever, but right now, he is all rage. It's making him reckless. We need you."

Rick shook his head. "Then you lead. You can do it, I know it."

Bella sighed. She felt like if she said anything wrong, Rick would dart away like an animal. Lips pursed, she threw his words back at him, "Well, I _should_ be in bed." She tilted her head and spoke gently. "What are you doing out here?"

Rick swallowed, looking anywhere but at her. "I've got-" His voice trailed off. Starting back up again, he said, voice thick, "I've got stuff."

Bella bit her lip, taking in his distracted, dazed state. "Can I help?"

Rick finally looked at her, contemplating. She stared back beseechingly. In those months out during the winter, Rick barely spoke about his own personal thoughts. He would speak in a direct manner about food, camps, gas – anything for the group. Bella understood he was having problems, so she and everyone else gave him space. But now she was trying to pull him back to the farm, where the two had talked about Lori, Carl, and Shane. He had shown a sign of faith then, and she was hoping he'd do the same now.

"I'm seeing her."

Bella's gaze softened as Rick shook his head, distraught and exhausted. "Lori. I – I see her. I'm seeing Lori." He looked up at Bella. "I know it's not really her. But it's got to mean something."

Exhaling, Bella nodded slowly. "Have you seen anything else?"

He looked away. "A couple days ago, when you were still missing, I heard her on a phone. Her. Shane. People we lost from before. You didn't know them."

"Do you see them now?"

He nodded. She frowned and stated, "You're looking for them."

"Waiting," he corrected. He walked up to the fence, imploringly speaking to her. "I know it doesn't make sense. But it will. In time it will."

Bella nodded slowly. "But Rick, it is not safe out here. Carl is worried about you." Rick looked down, but she continued, "He and everyone else is scared. We – I – don't know what to do. Please, come back inside."

Rick inhaled sharply, his knuckles white on the fence. "I can't." Shaking his head, he began to back away. "I can't."

Leaving Bella behind the fence, he stalked back towards the woods.

Pursing her lips, Bella slowly turned around and began to walk back to the prison. She did what she could. For now, she needed to talk to the others. Maybe it was best to leave. She had to think about what is best for June. For Carl. For everybody.

Bella squinted up at the sky. She never liked making these calls. When it was just her and June, it was simpler. She accepted responsibility for them both, and it had allowed them to still be here now. But for the whole group? That was a different story. That was eight more people and a baby to think about.

 _Crack._

Immediately, Bella whipped around her rifle as she wildly stared around, knees bent. She was standing in the middle of the field, which was definitely not ideal for a gunfight. There was only one solitary shot, but she was sure it wouldn't be the last. She could see some of her group in the courtyard running around, but she couldn't tell if anyone had gotten hit. Bella desperately tried to see if June was out there.

Suddenly, more gunshots filled the air. Bella threw herself to the ground, rolling over onto her stomach as she tried to keep her head down. Using her knees and elbows to propel her forward, she squirmed against the ground as she pushed herself to a small hill in the ground. More of a lump than anything, but it still provided something for her to hide behind. But they didn't seem to be aiming at her, at least for now. As she squinted above the grass, she could see a few trucks down at the edge of the forest.

Propping her semi-automatic rifle on top of the grass, she aimed toward the men down below. She had no idea what the Governor looked like, but she peered through her scope, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Bad idea. Really bad idea.

Almost immediately, her head felt like it was rattling in a cage. Inhaling sharply, she dropped her head to the grass, not seeing the man she shot fall to the ground. All she could hear was ringing, and opening her eyes felt like she was staring directly into the sun.

When she lifted her head, everything shifted and rolled over. It was hard to focus on a single thing, and the intense throbbing in her head forced her to shut her eyes again. Rendered useless and disoriented, Bella could only think about how much she now hated guns.

She pressed the palm of her hands to her ears and rested her forehead on the ground. Breathing in deeply, she desperately tried to block out her worry and focus on making the ringing stop.

It helped a bit. The intense jangling she felt inside of her head was fading away, leaving behind just a disoriented Bella.

Not long after, she felt the ground rumble underneath her. Lifting her head up, she squinted to see that a very large truck had just drove down the front gate. Riding past her, it slowed to a stop a couple yards away. Nobody was shooting, leaving everything still and eerily quiet, all except for the quiet hum of the truck.

It seemed like everybody was holding their breaths. But then, with a loud, jarring bang, the truck's back door fell open, spewing out walkers.

"Bella, get the hell out of there," roared Rick.

No shit.

But as if the universe was sending a giant "fuck you," the gunshots picked up again. But as long as she didn't shoot her own gun, she could handle the surrounding noise. She tried to discreetly crawl backwards, sensitive to the fact that she had guns and walkers to be wary about. The walkers hadn't notice her lying in the tall grass, but that was likely to change very soon.

She heard the roar of cars behind her. Glancing back, she was relieved to see that Woodbury was beginning to drive away, ending the gunfight. All that was left were the walkers, some of which had taken a notice to Bella. Staggering up, Bella shut her eyes as she tried to gain some sense of balance. The world tilted, and the sun started to scream.

Gunshots rang through the air as the rest of their group entered the grassy area to shoot down the walkers. But there were dozens, and they stood between Bella, who could hardly stand without stumbling around.

She hoped one of her own didn't mistake her for one. That would suck.

Another car – Glenn's car – entered the field. It stopped abruptly a few yards away from her. Breathing heavily, she clumsily ambled her way towards the car.

Someone – Michonne, to her surprise – joined her. Leaning against Michonne, who Bella decided then and there that she would be her new best friend, she stumbled into the car. They both fell into the back, and before Michonne had even fully closed the door, Glenn stomped on the gas pedal and sped towards the prison.

Feeling like she was most likely going to throw up, Bella didn't see the telltale bolt strike down a walker that was lurching towards her.


	29. Reunion

Daryl strode behind Rick into the common space, the metal door shutting with a finality behind Merle. The rest of the group were already inside waiting for them. The obvious contempt Glenn wore on his face did not go unnoticed by Daryl.

He had hardly gazed around when something forcefully punched him on his arm. It didn't hurt, but it still caught him by surprise. Looking down, he saw the unamused face of June scowling at him. "You," she sniffed, "are an asshole."

That caused the corner of his mouth to quirk up. "Watch your mouth. Shouldn't say stuff like that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Who do you think I get it from?"

Daryl was already scanning the room for the woman in question. "Where she at anyways?" Merle had been watching him interact with the kid. Still, he ignored Merle's inquisitive stare.

This time it was Hershel who spoke up. Not glancing at Merle, the older man stood by the cabinet and raised a small white bottle in his hand. "With her concussion, she should've still been in bed – not participating in a gunfight. All I can give her are some pain meds for her headache."

Daryl saw her from yards away out there in the field. He was still standing behind the fence when he saw her stagger up from the ground. Head down, she was stumbling around disorientedly until Michonne reached her. Daryl had shot down one of the walkers that was reaching for her, but she didn't seem to notice. Too busy looking like one of the walkers.

Daryl hesitated before walking over. "Here," he said gruffly, stretching his hand out. "I'll get these to her."

Without question, Hershel set the bottle in Daryl's hand. But before Daryl turned around, Hershel placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's good to have you back."

Swallowing, Daryl simply nodded.

As he headed toward the cell block, Merle made to follow, but Rick quickly blocked him. "No." Rick glanced at Daryl. "He shouldn't go in there."

Daryl clenched his jaw, but Rick had already allowed Merle to come inside with them. He nodded, ignoring Merle's incredulous face.

Swinging the gate open, he heard it close behind him with a metallic clang. The tangy smell of rust was still there. Daryl slowly walked down the familiar, rusty hall as he peered inside every cell he passed through. It wasn't until he reached one of the cells at the end, next to the staircase, that he saw her.

Bella was sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She was squeezing her eyes shut, and her lips were pressed in a tight line. Her body was tense in pain, and she didn't seem to notice he was there.

Daryl stood at the door, unsure on how to approach this. She didn't know he had come back, and he tried to think about the best way to make himself known.

Feeling foolish just standing there, he slowly walked over to her. Bella still didn't look up, probably thinking that he was Hershel. Finally, he cleared his throat and stretched the bottle out towards her.

First, her eyes peeked through her fingers at the pills. Daryl saw her eyebrows furrow and her lips form a frown. Then she looked up at him, and he saw her emerald eyes gaze at him.

At least, Daryl thought she saw him. Looking like how he first found her in the tombs, her eyes were bleary and unfocused. Although not as bad, she still squinted at him. He could see the moment she realized it was him. Her eyes widened but instead of saying anything, she leaned back a little, taking him in.

Daryl uncomfortably shifted, unsure of what to say. He opened his mouth, ready to say anything to get her to talk. But she had suddenly poked him on the arm with her finger. Hard.

Frowning, she poked him again. Then, she pinched him.

"What the hell are you doin'?" asked Daryl, bemused. He swatted her hand away.

"Honestly-" Her voice was quiet and faint. "-I can hardly think right now, and I wouldn't put it past me to be hallucinating."

He tried not to smile. Instead, he unhooked his canteen from his belt. Gently pressing it into her hands, he took out two pills and gave them to her. "I'm here," he promised.

She gave him a skeptical look, much to his amusement. But she popped the pills into her mouth and washed them down with a gulp of water.

Screwing back the cap onto the canteen, Bella looked up at him, her green eyes clearer and steadier. "To stay?"

Daryl nodded slowly, sobering up. He sat down on the bed beside her, resting his elbows on his thighs. He looked down at his clasped hands. "I will, as long as Merle can. I want to."

"Hm." It wasn't unkind however, but thoughtful. He felt her lightly bump her shoulder against his. Surprised, he glanced back towards her. She had on a small smile, one cheek quirked up. "Well," she said gently. "I'm glad you're here now."

His face softened. He opened his mouth to respond, but the two heard the metal gate swing open. Raised voices filled up the cell block as the group piled in. Daryl glanced at Bella before standing up. "Stay here," he said gruffly. "Rest." He didn't want her to meet Merle, at least not now.

But speak of the devil, he could hear the familiar rough, gravelly voice of his brother as it filled up the cell block.

Bella suddenly stiffened and stood up. Daryl frowned and tried to move her back, but she slipped past him and towards the door.

She was probably just freaked out on hearing a new voice. But she'll just see that it is his lousy, problematic brother.

But when he followed her out, she slowed to a stop as she took in Merle. He was standing in the common space behind the locked gate, which was separating him from everybody else. His arms were casually dangling through the bars.

But what confused Daryl even more was Bella's reaction.

Groaning, Bella stared at Merle incredulously. She had stopped yards away, lean body tensed. "You got to be shitting me."

Everyone stopped and looked back at her. But Merle looked even more surprised. To Daryl's bewilderment, Merle started cackling.

Rick strode up to her, eyes narrowed. "You know him?"

Daryl went up beside her, staring at her in disbelief. The shock had disappeared from her face, and in its place was a mix of annoyance and contempt. She looked at Merle as if he was a cockroach. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she was frowning.

"She certainly does," chortled Merle. Daryl clenched his fists as he glared at his brother. "I had the pleasure of meetin' lovely Artemis over here months ago. I can never forget a face like her's." He sent her a wink, which caused her to scowl.

"It was before I met you two," she grumbled, speaking to Daryl and Rick. "It might've been only a couple days in fact, back when June and I lived at the water tower." Sighing, she glanced at June. "He's the guy from the market."

Gaping, June asked, "This is him?"

Bella looked up at Daryl, who was intensely staring at her. "Remember the guy I told you about? Back during Christmas?"

 _"I got trapped in a store before, just like this. Except I got stuck with some asshole."  
"This happened to you before?"_

 _"Yeah. The man was a real piece of shit."_

"Basically," continued Bella, this time to the whole group. "I went to a market in a town near us to scavenge. But while there, I hear a loud racket coming from the front. By the time I came up, I just see the outside was surrounded by walkers and he was inside with me. Idiot got us trapped."

"Cuddled the whole night," sang Merle. "Snug as a bug."

Fists clenched, Daryl was about to go knock him to the ground before Bella scoffed, "Hardly."

"Maybe not," admitted Merle. "But we talked and reached an understanding."  
She glared at him scathingly, and Daryl had to ask, "Talked about what?"

They both looked at him. Merle's grin didn't fade, but Daryl could see that he was tensing up. Bella watched them both before sighing, "Asshole basically convinced me that he had feelings. Next morning, we planned our way out and said we'd split half of the stuff."

Merle relaxed. "Worked perfectly didn't it, Lady Artemis?"

"It would've," muttered Bella. She tilted her head. "If you didn't end up taking all of it."

He looked at her innocently. "But I left you them Twizzlers you like so much."

Bella flicked him off, face blank.

Carl spoke up. "So, you never knew that guy was Merle?"

She shrugged. "We never exchanged names. And I never knew that Daryl's brother had cut off his own hand." She grimaced at Daryl. "Which is pretty surprising."

This was definitely "pretty surprising." It was just bizarre to think that Bella and Merle had met during this mess of a time. Bella said this was only a bit before she had first run into Daryl and Rick, which felt like a lifetime ago. That meant she had met Merle only a few days after he had run away from Atlanta and cut off his hands. A few days after he left Daryl behind. Daryl wondered what Bella and Merle talked about.

But, Daryl reasoned, Merle just being an asshole was better than him trying to kill her or anything. It was stupid, thought Daryl, that this was his standards for Merle. Still, he was relieved that Bella's look of annoyance wasn't the same as Glenn's look of hatred.

"Still," said Bella, shooting a reproachful look at Merle. "None of this matters. We have to plan on what we are going to do next. We could either stay here or leave."

Voice low, Rick fiercely said, "We are not running."

Maggie looked at him incredulously. "We won't be able to handle another gunfight like today's. If another sniper came through, no amount of wood pallets could stop them."

Hershel nodded. "She's right. We should leave now while we still can."  
"But they could be waiting for that," disagreed Bella. Standing next to Daryl, she had her arms crossed and was leaning against the stairwell. "If they're smart, they'd have scouts along the road. They have the numbers to block up roads and gun us down."

"Artemis is right." Merle ignored Bella's scowl. "Should've left when you had the chance."  
"We ain't scared of that prick," growled Daryl.

Merle looked at his younger brother seriously, his smile slipping away. "You should be. Him comin' here and knockin' down your fence: that's just him ringin' the dinner bell. You guys may have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and numbers."

Voice firm, Hershel spoke from besides Bella. The older man was sitting on the steps as he looked urgingly at Rick. "I say we should leave. We can't just sit here."

Rick simply shook his head and began to walk towards the door. But before he even reached for the handle, Hershel stood up and shouted, "Get back here!"

Hershel was always the calm, collected person of the group. The closest Daryl remembers seeing him this enraged was back when Shane unleashed the walkers in his barn. Daryl watched intently as the older man stepped towards Rick, his voice louder than Daryl's ever heard.

"You're slipping Rick." Hershel gestured around him. "We've all seen it. We all understand why. But you once said this isn't a democracy anymore, so you've got to own up to that. We are putting our lives into your hands. So, get your head clear. Then come back to us."

* * *

Everyone had uncertainly dispersed to do their own cells as they waited for something – anything to happen. To Bella's relief, Rick came striding in not an hour later.

Handing a rifle to Maggie, he barely stopped as he told her, "Take watch in the tower. Keep your eyes open and head down."  
He gave another one to Glenn. "Field is overrun by walkers. Didn't see any snipers, but we'll keep Maggie on watch."

Rick walked to the end of the hall where most of the group had gathered. Walking down the stairs, Daryl offered, "I could get up on the watch tower and shoot some of the walkers down. It'll give y'all a chance to put the gate back up."

Michonne spoke up. "Or we could pile up some of the cars in front instead."

Hershel shook his head. "We'd run out of bullets before we'd make a dent. And right now, we barely have food or ammo."

Bella rocked on her heels, her small frown the only giveaway of her concern. "We've been here before. We'll be okay."

"That was when it was just us." Glenn looked at Daryl, who had stiffened at his words. "Before there was a snake in the nest."

Daryl stepped up to Glenn. His back was to Bella, but she could hear the frustration and disappointment in his voice. "We gonna go through this again? Merle's here to stay."  
Bella reached a hand out to calm him down, but Daryl had already slipped away as he went for the stairs. Pursing her lips, she watched him retreat from her line of vision – probably going to hide himself away from everyone else.

Meanwhile, Glenn continued to speak insistently to Rick, "Seriously, Merle living here is not going to fly. I wouldn't force you to live with Shane after he tried to kill you."

"Merle has military experience," countered Hershel.

Sighing, Bella looked up at all of them. "Merle may be an asshole, but he cares for his brother. I know that much."

After that, she slowly walked away, lost in thought. That conversation back there was going nowhere, and she had another person in mind she wanted to talk to.

The man in question was sitting on top of his makeshift bed. Placed in a storage room directly across from the cell block in the common space, Merle was wrapping duct tape around his makeshift arm, securing a long blade to him.

He looked up as he saw Bella approaching. As she sat herself on top of a box besides his bed, he hummed, "Well, well. Long time no see, Lady Artemis. You here to continue where we left off in the market from so long ago?"

Turning her head to face him, she simply gave him a flat, unamused stare. Then, following a light sigh, she said, "Cut the bullshit."

The grin on Merle's face faded away. Instead, he studied her, jaw clenched as he continued to slowly wrap the tape around his arm. She refused to look away. "If it isn't my sterling personality that is bringin' you here, then what is?"

Bella considered him, lips pursed. She leaned back against the wall and spoke in a low voice. "You are with us now, whether you like it or not." Ignoring his raised eyebrow, she continued, "I need to know that you won't fuck this up. That you won't end up hurting Daryl."

He chuckled humorously. "Y'see, everyone in your lovely group thinks I will. So why don't you think I will."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she regarded him. "Because us two sat in that market not knowing if we would live. So, we took it upon ourselves to confess whatever shit was eating us up at the time to a person who we thought we'd never see again. But here we are now."

Bella sat back up, continuing after Merle didn't say anything, "You aren't a bad man. You just need to give yourself the chance. Otherwise, you're making this too hard on both yourself and Daryl."

He tore his duct tape off, finishing his makeshift weapon. "Darling, I have killed sixteen people since we have last spoke." Merle looked at her seriously. "I am not the same person I once was."

She didn't blink. "And I've killed twelve. But in a time such as now, that hardly matters."  
"It always matters," he said, surprising Bella. "What I want to know is why you care so much about my little brother? Maybe it's because you _love_ him?" He stretched the word out mockingly. "Or maybe it's because he loves you."

Bella scoffed, unfazed. "Love is luxury that no one can afford right now, nor is it something I want." Tilting her head, she considered her words before saying slowly, "I care because Daryl is good. He wants to save people. Me, June, Sophia, you. But people like you and me-" She waved her arm around. "We are selfish. We don't try to save others. We do what whatever we must to protect what we already have. It's why we kill the way we do: without hesitation or regret. Maybe we mourn, but we mourn for ourselves."

The two sat there in silence, regarding the other warily. Finally, Bella eventually stood up. They both glanced over toward the cell block, where they could see Daryl watching the exchange from afar. He had just slowed to a stop after descending the stairwell.

Bella looked back at Merle. "You don't have to agree with any of this. And I won't tell anybody about what you said back then since you seem to not want anyone to know. But you just need to take away one thing from this conversation: You do anything to hurt Daryl – any of them – I will kill you. After I cut off your dick."

At that, she turned around and walked back into the cell block.

Watching her and Daryl's exchange, Merle leaned back against the wall, chuckling.

* * *

Judith's wailing just seemed to get louder and louder. Maybe it was, with it echoing throughout this metal – because it just had to be metal – prison.

The cell block was dark with only the moon and a couple of candles washing the space with a soft glow. Andrea's sudden reunion wasn't as heartwarming as it should've been, and it left the group solemn and grave for what was to come – whatever the hell that would be. Scattered throughout the block, hardly anyone talked or moved. Instead, they got lost in their own thoughts, maybe wondering if this stillness would ever happen again.

Most of the group sat around the candles on the floor. Across from Daryl, who was leaning against one of the cell gates with Hershel behind everyone else, was June and Bella. They were both sitting against the wall with June resting her head on Bella's shoulder. The younger girl seemed to be nodding off, but she would snap her head back up whenever Judith gave a particularly nasty wail.

Bella was leaning her head against June's, but she seemed wide awake. A pale orange glow washed over her features, highlighting her bright green irises. Her gaze from the candles never faltered, and it was as if she didn't hear the baby's cries. Daryl wondered what she was thinking.

It had been thirty minutes of this: the group sitting, waiting for the baby to stop. It was dampening moods and putting almost everybody on edge. Merle had long left to go back to his separated cell after muttering about the "dumb asshole of a baby." Daryl had gotten numb to it and was unknowingly staring at the woman across from him, but he was just as lost in thought as she was.

It wasn't until the wailing steadily grew louder that Daryl and everybody else snapped out of whatever state they were in. Carl and Rick were carefully coming down the stairs with the fussing Judith in Rick's arms. The younger boy stood uncertainly at the bottom before he suddenly asked, "Bella? Do you think you can sing to her? Maybe it'll calm her down – I don't know." The exhausted, downcasted tone of his voice did not go unnoticed.

Bella lightly stood up, murmuring "Sure. I can try." She approached Rick, standing lightly on her toes as she gently shifted Judith out of Rick's arms into her own. She bounced the baby for a bit, slowly walking around aimlessly as she tried to sooth her.

Daryl's gaze softened as he took her in. Bella had taken her hair down, her front strands pulled back. Her strands were wilder than usual, as she had been spending a lot of her time sleeping. She wore a loose, charcoal grey shirt that reached down to her thighs. The sleeves ended at her elbow, revealing only the two thin, black bands inked into her skin. She wore only mismatched socks to protect her feet from the cold ground.

The baby hadn't stopped crying, so, standing next to the window, she began to sing.

 _You're just too good to be true  
Can't take my eyes off of you  
You'd be like heaven to touch  
I wanna hold you so much  
At long last love has arrived  
And I thank God I'm alive  
You're just too good to be true  
Can't take my eyes off of you_

Voice like velvet, Bella sang this timeless song smoothly and softly. She wasn't particularly loud, but it felt like her singing was gently enveloping the whole room. Everyone listened as she rocked the baby to the beat she heard in her head. The moonlight was shining directly on them, giving a soft glow. Daryl felt like he had never heard a voice so subtle yet beautiful at the same time.

 _Pardon the way that I stare_  
 _There's nothing else to compare_  
 _The sight of you leaves me weak_  
 _There are no words left to speak_  
 _But if you feel like I feel_  
 _Please let me know that it's real_  
 _You're just too good to be true_  
 _Can't take my eyes off of you_

He could hear the smile in her voice. It felt almost surreal how this song made him feel warmth and almost want to smile too. It felt almost out of place with the power it had. Even Merle had slithered out from his hole to listen with them. It was a _happy_ song, and Judith's cries had now faded into soft cooing.

 _I need you baby, and if it's quite all right  
I need you baby, to warm a lonely night  
I love you baby, trust in me when I say it's okay  
Oh pretty baby, don't let me down, I pray  
Oh pretty baby, now that I found you, stay  
And let me love you, oh baby let me love you, oh baby..._

She had turned around to face the group, revealing that Judith was now just looking up at her. It was hard to tell that the baby was crying two minutes ago with how she was staring up at Bella, wide-eyed and entranced. Bella was smiling triumphantly, but she continued to sing.

 _You're just too good to be true_  
 _Can't take my eyes off of you_  
 _You'd be like heaven to touch_  
 _I wanna hold you so much_  
 _At long last love has arrived_  
 _And I thank God I'm alive_  
 _You're just too good to be true_  
 _Can't take my eyes off of you_

Her voice began to become softer as Judith began nodding off underneath her spell. Bella's rocking also slowed, and everybody waited with abated breaths.

 _I need you baby, and if it's quite all right_  
 _I need you baby, to warm a lonely night_  
 _I love you baby, trust in me when I say it's okay_  
 _Oh pretty baby, don't let me down, I pray_  
 _Oh pretty baby, now that I found you, stay_  
 _And let me love you, oh baby let me love you, oh baby..._

Bella was smiling down at the baby, her eyes casted down toward Judith's sleeping face. Everyone casted her a grateful look of relief. The tension and gloom that had blanketed the group had seeped away, leaving behind something more peaceful.

She walked over towards Daryl and Hershel, where Rick and Carl were also standing. She gently gave Judith to Carl, who went back up the stairs to put her in her makeshift bed.

Hershel spoke quietly, eyes twinkling at her. "You've got quite a gift."

Bella gave a half-smile in thanks, having gone back to her more subdued self. Sighing, she crossed her arms and rocked on her heels. "Some reunion, huh?"

"She's in a jam," responded Rick, shaking his head.

Hershel sobered up. "We all are. The man is hellbent on destruction, and he's got the guns to do so."

"We gotta match it," said Daryl. "Can't have nothin' when it comes down to it."

Rick nodded. "I'm going on a run. I know a place that'll have a whole lot of guns for us. I'll bring Carl. Maybe even Michonne."

Daryl frowned. "You sure that's a good idea?"

Rick sighed. "We'll find out. We have to eventually."  
"I also have a place." Bella's voice had dropped, and she warily shot a glance toward June. "The guns June and I brought to the water tower weren't even half of what we had back at our ranch. We buried the rest just in case. And we never needed it until now" She looked up at Rick. "It shouldn't be more than a few hours' drive from here."

Daryl didn't hesitate. Didn't think. "I'll go with you."

Rick nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll go tomorrow. You two the next day."

* * *

 **AN: PLZ listen to Renee Dominique's cover of Can't Take My Eyes Off of You for reference of Bella's voice.**

 **ALSO next chp is one of my favs :)**


	30. Ghost

**IMPORTANT:**

 **I DID SOMETHING STUPID LOL AND SKIPPED POSTING THIS CHAPTER, WHICH TAKES PLACE BETWEEN CHP 29 (REUNION) AND CHP 31 (ARROW ON THE DOORPOST). I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS CHAPTER SO PLZ ENJOY AND SORRY FOR THE CONFUSION**

* * *

"Come on," Bella glanced at him exasperatedly, left hand on the wheel. Her other hand was gripping onto the gear stick, constantly shifting it as she adjusted her speed. The AC was put on high causing her hair to be blowing back. Daryl had long since known that Bella preferred the car to be unnecessarily freezing. "I swear I won't care what you pick. If the song is there, then that means I like it."

Daryl scowled as he reached for her music player. He suspected that one of the main reasons she wanted to go on this run was to have the opportunity to charge it.

He clumsily moved his thumb over the circular wheel that allowed him to scroll through the list of songs. Squinting at the titles, he slowly went down the list as he tried to find something familiar. Daryl had never touched one of these things before, and June had been the one to first teach him how to use it.

Throughout the winter, Bella had clung onto her music like a lifeline. She was always listening to it while they were riding – car or motorcycle. Set her in another world, she'd say. He assumed it was because the group rarely did anything other than other than driving, sitting, or scavenging.

Usually, she picked the songs. Bella liked a lot of the old classics. Roy Orbison, The Temptations, Bee Gees. Anything soulful. Jazzy. But overall, she had a wide range of music.

Bella would often pick what to play based off of whose she's with. Daryl was pretty sure she knew almost everyone's preferred artists or style of music. When they would ride on his bike, they'd sometimes would share the earbuds. He noticed she'd pick up on the kind of songs he liked and would choose accordingly. Daryl was pretty sure she had a set playlist for their rides.

Daryl ended up going to the list of artists. He knew he was taking a damn long time and part of him was pettily wanting him to go at a leisurely pace. But Bella had a tranquil, almost serene expression on her face, sending a message that she wasn't taking his bullshit. When he finally picked a song ("The First Vietnamese War" by The Black Angels), she gave a half-smile of approval.

They drove like that for most of the ride: Daryl picking songs as they settled into their typical, comfortable silence. The quiet never bothered him, and he remembered feeling relief when Bella once casually mentioned that she liked it like that. The pressure for conversation was never there. But when they did speak, it felt effortless. They were aware that they both aren't the most talkative people. Daryl simply wasn't known for his social graces, while Bella was the kind of person that preferred to listen and watch. The only person that she'd speak for hours with would probably be her daughter.

Instead, they would be lost in their thoughts, tethered only by the comfort of the other's presence and the music. Right now, Daryl was thinking about their destination. They had only a third of the route left, so they'd be at the ranch within an hour.

It would be surreal to be there. The group hardly spoke of their past lives in general. There was no point. There was only them, _here_ , and their survival. Bella and Daryl, no matter how close they may have gotten these past few months, also rarely spoke of their time from before. The most he learned about her was from the initial couple of days when she and June first joined the group. Daryl was never proud of who he was. Something he was very aware of especially since Merle had come back.

"What you think you gonna find over there?" One elbow on the door, he was leaning his head against his fist as he looked towards Bella. "Besides the guns?"

She glanced at him before looking back to the road. She looked thoughtful as her finger lightly tapped the wheel to the beat. "I guess," she said slowly, "I just want to see it. To see if it's just how we left it or if it's filled with walkers. Maybe it has ghosts. Might be morbid of me, I suppose."

He raised an eyebrow, more out of curiosity than disbelief. "'Ghosts'?"

She simply flashed her distinctive, trademark half-smile. Instead of answering, she asked, "Where would you go?" Seeing his frown, she clarified, "If you could go anywhere from _before_ – just to see what it's like now, where would you go?"

Daryl knew she was deflecting, but he wasn't going to push it. Instead, he looked out the window away from her curious gaze. Dense trees had slowly changed to flat, open pastures. "I don't got many places to miss. Better to leave 'em behind."

Unsurprisingly, she pushed it. "Not even home? Where you grew up?"

He turned back, blue meeting green. He surprised even himself when he said, "The prison is more of a home than that place will ever be." It was liberating to admit that. Daryl never thought about leaving the group all winter, but nor had he ever accepted how much they meant to him. Being with just Merle after Woodbury, Daryl was always looking for a way back.

Daryl could see she was trying to hide a smile, probably more for him than herself.

Eventually, they exited off of the highway. He could see her hand gripping the wheel tighter as they got closer, her open, untroubled expression becoming flat and composed – something she does when she tries to hide her thoughts.

It was a cloudy day, signaling rain was in the horizon. The grey gloom created a surreal effect. The open land itself was disconcerting. He felt exposed as he took in the homes they'd pass every few miles. There were even some cars parked next to them or on the side of the road. Anyone could be in them, watching. Waiting.

Bella felt it too. Scanning around, she said quietly, "Almost there. We shouldn't stay long. An hour at most."

Daryl grunted in agreement, sitting up straighter as he attempted to detect any movement. Besides a walker slowly stumbling its way in a field towards them, he didn't see anything. It wasn't long till the walker was out of sight.

It wasn't long till Bella slowed down as they approached her old home. Turning into the dirt road, Daryl took in the squat, modest sized home.

It was noticeable from far away with its yellow paint and red roof. The house had only a front porch that led to its brick-red door. The number "13" marked the lower step in thick, black paint. It wasn't like Hershel's picturesque "It's been in my family for 150 years" house, but neither was it some shack. The forest behind it framed the house with green, only half a mile of field separating the house from the trees. There were no cars around the home, but if anyone was inside, they would certainly hear them first.

Bella drove over the stone path leading to the house, ignoring the dirt road as she drove straight in front of the porch. Without looking away from the red door, she turned the car off, grabbed her bow, and stepped out of the car without a word.

It was eerily silent. Daryl quickly joined her side as they took in the front of the house. All of the windows were covered, something Bella had already told him about beforehand. But one of them was shattered. Looking at Bella's wary, tense face, he knew that that part was new.

The only sound came from the creaking of the stairs as they walked up to the porch. Daryl would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about the woman next to him. She didn't seem to be crying over the house, but her mind might be in the past instead of now.

Daryl immediately went to the side of the window, carefully leaning in as he peered inside. One hand clenched on his crossbow, he prepared himself for any sudden movements.

But all he could see was what probably a dining room. Natural light filling the inside, there was a completely untouched table that still had table cloth neatly pressed on top of it. There wasn't even glass on the floor, meaning that whoever broke it had planned on staying. They might still be here for all Daryl knew.

He moved back, nodding at Bella. She was standing in front of the door on a mat that said "WELCOME" with sunflowers around its edges. Her expression was indecipherable. She only had her eyebrows furrowed and a slight, barely-there frown.

One hand holding a knife, she carefully reached for the bronze door knob. Holding their breaths, they watched as she turned the knob – only for it to resist her movement. Taking a step back in surprise, Bella just slowly shook her head with faint amusement.

Daryl watched as she moved to the corner of the porch where a small birdhouse hung from the beam. She reached through the small opening, her hand barely fitting through. Finally, she turned back, flashing a bronze key at the attentive Daryl.

Bella carefully placed the key into the lock, slowly turning it to prevent as much sound as she could. But he could still hear the _click_ resonate through the still air.

Both leaning on one side of the door, they prepared themselves as Bella lightly pushed the door open. Immediately, Daryl swung his bow inside, ready to shoot anything that so much as shifts.

But besides the dull thud of the door softly hitting the wall, there was no noise. There was no movement. Still, the two waited patiently as Bella knocked three times against doorframe with the hilt of her knife.

The door had opened up to a narrow hallway that would lead to the living room, at least according to Bella. The right of the door was immediately opened up to the dining room, which would also lead to the kitchen. There was a closet and a shelf to the left of them. The shelf still had shoes and other knick-knacks on it.

Every surface had a thin layer of dust. Daryl and Bella immediately zoned onto the floor, where – to their relief – they could see no prints. Not even under the broken window. Whoever had come might be long gone.

Bella slowly slipped past Daryl, her steps hardly audible. She left behind small prints as she lightly kicked up the dust into the already grainy air. Following close behind, he could see specks and particles floating in the air, highlighted by the gray, pale light that shone in from the door way. Locking the door behind them, he joined Bella in the dining room.

They still had their weapons at the ready, but they were both glancing around curiously. It felt surreal for Daryl to be here. He could see Bella and June entering the house, kicking their shoes off and placing them on the shelf as they walked to the living room without a care in the world.

There were pictures hung along the walls. Most of them showed people Daryl didn't recognize. An older couple were in most. With dark caramel skin like June, he assumed they were June's grandparents – Bella's foster parents. They showed them and other people who were probably distant or close blood relatives. A few had a little toddler that Daryl recognized as June. Bella wasn't in any of them.

He heard a sharp inhale and immediately turned around. Bella was frozen at a doorway connected to the dining room, her hand clenched onto her knife. Stalking forward, he moved in front of her as he took in the kitchen.

The first thing he noticed were the footprints. They weren't from the dust, but from blood. Red tracks circled around a larger dark, crimson stain that took up most of the floor. On the cupboards over the stove and sink, splatters of blood contrasted garishly against the white wood. There were red handprints smeared onto one. The kitchen looked like it came from a crime scene, something they would see in movies and documentaries. The only thing missing was a body.

Slowly stepping in, Daryl had his crossbow raised as he followed the tracks. The huge blood stain was smeared. Someone with the bloody footprints had dragged the body out of the kitchen to the backdoor. They probably killed the person. Or maybe it was somebody they lost.

However, there was still a layer of dust over the old, almost black blood. It calmed him down only slightly. The wall gave way to the living room, which seemed relatively untouched by the blood. But there were old cans and trash littering the floors. There were two makeshift beds – one on the couch and one on the floor beside it. This home appeared to have been a camp until things had gone horribly wrong.

Glancing back at Bella, he was relieved to see that although she had initially been thrown off, her green eyes were clear and attentive.

They both refrained from saying anything. They still had the second floor to clear. Daryl allowed Bella to slip past him to take them to the stairs. There were more pictures hung along the walls. He passed one with Bella in it. She looked young – maybe fifteen. Daryl could see the obvious discomfort on her face as she stood next to who he assumed were Joshua and Darlene. There was also another young woman who held a squirming baby in her arms. Daryl didn't stare for long as he stayed close behind Bella.

There were only three doors in the narrow hall. One was a bathroom that they cleared quickly.

The next, Bella opened cautiously, revealing a small, dark room. Daryl stood at the doorway as he watched her quickly check the closet. Glancing around, he guessed this room was June's. Everything was yellow themed, and he assumed that June must've really loved sunflowers. He could see photos taped haphazardly along the walls, some of which had ended up on the floor over time. She looked Carl's age in most of the photos. In some, she stood with other girls. Probably her friends. She seemed to have a typical, healthy pre-teen life.

In others, she stood with Bella. Bella honestly didn't look much different in the photos than she did now. She even dressed similar to what she wore now. Today, it was dark blue jeans with a light grey tee tucked in. Often in dark or neutral colors, she wore simple, casual clothes.

Still, he could tell the woman in the photos wasn't who stood with him now. He could see the calm, collected disposition he was familiar with, but the wary and hardened woman Bella is now wasn't there. She looked younger, more carefree.

Glancing back to Bella, he saw her rummaging through the room. She had taken a leather satchel with her for this trip, and when she found a camera – a polaroid – she shoved it in her bag. At Daryl's inquisitive expression, Bella gestured at the photos on the wall and whispered, "She misses it. Plus, I spent fifty bucks on it. She better put it to use."

He followed her out as they headed to the opposite end of the hallway. The last room they needed to clear was her bedroom.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but he wasn't surprised to see her room. It was sparse and simple. Besides a few paintings, there wasn't many personal items on the walls. Her queen-sized bed looked untouched, the white and pale grey sheets folded and tucked in. There was photo of her and June on the nightstand.

The first thing she did was open the curtains, letting light fill in the room. He felt like he wasn't even there, disembodied. It was as if he was watching a film and had somehow ended up inside it. He didn't know the person who slept in this room, but he knew the Bella in front of him. He didn't like this feeling.

She looked back and read right through him. Her voice sounding strangely far away, she admitted, "This feels weird. Everything here is as I remember it, but I don't recognize it."

He slowly entered the room, leaning back against a simple table next to the door. It had a mirror attached to it, and there were a few items neatly placed on top. There was a small vase with brittle stems still inside it. Withered petals were piled around it. There was another photo of her and June. There was a flat, rectangular jewelry box. It was made of glass and lined with bronze. He could still see dainty jewelry inside - some had rusted while others looked untouched.

Daryl started when he saw himself in the mirror. It made him uncomfortable to look at himself - always had. But this time, it felt like he was looking through a portal. He looked as out of place as he felt.

Bella slowly walked, almost gliding, to a far shelf across from the bed. It carried mainly CDs, books, and a stereo. She reached out and lightly brushed her fingers on top of what appeared to be a violin case. But she didn't pick it up in the end. Instead, she grabbed a few slim notebooks from the top shelf.

When she opened one, he could see her scrawls and marks filling up the pages. They were her music, he recognized. The notebook she had back in the prison looked exactly like those.

"You lived here since you were fourteen?"

She shook her head as she stuffed the notebooks in her bag. "Once Joshua and Darlene passed, I was essentially kicked out. Never came back till I took in June. She inherited the property, but since she was a minor I became estate guardian. But even then, once I got a job in the city to perform, we moved to Atlanta. Made a place for ourselves." She glanced out the window. "We'd only come back during the weekend or breaks. When the outbreak started, we were here for the summer."

He studied her as he slung his crossbow around his back. "Where'd you go before you took in June?"

He saw her tense up, but she relaxed just as quickly. She glanced over her shoulder at him, an image on nonchalance. But her stony green eyes, washed aglow from the window's light, didn't match the small smile on her face. "I was gone," she said simply.

It was hardly an answer, but Daryl felt like he understood in his own way. The first night they met, when she gave her backstory, he remembered her saying she lost her way. That she was with the wrong people. Maybe, like him, she wasn't proud of who she was.

She passed him and headed toward the night stand. She grabbed the framed photo of her and June and shoved it in her bag.

"At least there ain't no ghosts here."

Bella raised an eyebrow, already moving on from whatever was haunting her. Voice light, she asked, "But that's what we are, aren't we? Ghosts?"

She reached for a small blanket thrown over her bed. "Stuck in the past, thinking about once was. Comparing it to now. Haunting old houses and prisons to make them ours."

With her blanket slung over her arm, she sighed and sat on the edge of the bed directly across from him. Facing Daryl, she said, "People like _us_ are ghosts from the time before. We'll always be looking back at places like this and remember. It's people like Judith, who are born into this, that'll _live_."

Daryl frowned, his steely blue eyes narrowing down at her. He was still leaning back against Bella's old vanity table, a hand holding onto the strap of his crossbow. Bella was only an arm's reach away. "Then what are we doin' now? Waitin' to become one of _them?"_

She didn't look away from him, her head barely tilted. "We carry on. Like real people do."

The atmosphere was almost tense – Daryl felt like she was challenging him, but what for he didn't know. Voice low and rough, he shook his head slowly. "Nah. We buildin' somethin' for ourselves back at the prison. Buildin' a life. We ain't ghosts."

She considered him, and he didn't look away. Daryl was never big on eye contact, but with Bella, he always stood a little straighter and spoke a little louder. He never felt anxious about that, not even in a strange, existential debate such as this.

It might've been only a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity had passed before she gave a small smile, so subtle and fleeting that he only recognized it from being with her for the past eight months. She pushed herself off of the bed to stand up, and it was only then that he noticed that they had both leaned in during the conversation. Faces inches from each other, she said, "You're not wrong."

His hand clenched tighter on his strap, but, to his unexpected relief, Bella moved towards the door, a faint smile on her face.

Daryl could hear her light footsteps fade away as she went down the stairs. He took the moment to slowly exhale, his tense muscles slowly relaxing. His heart was beating embarrassingly fast, and he tried to force himself to get his head straight. His body had unknowingly gone into fight-or-flight mode, similar to when he's approached by a walker. But this wasn't a walker – it was Bella. He felt more unnerved by her than if a dozen walkers were to suddenly stumble from the closet.

It made him uncomfortable to think about what had just occurred. He hardly knew what happened himself. But Bella was downstairs, and he couldn't hide up here forever.

Pushing it out of his mind, he did what he'd always do when he didn't understand what he was feeling: He carried on.

Once he made it down the stairs, he saw Bella looking outside the window, one hand pulling back the curtains. She was waiting for him, he realized, mortifying him even more.

Daryl couldn't help but feel relief when she spoke first, "We better do this quick. There's too much open space out there."

He went to her side, careful to maintain some space between them. Glancing out the same window, he asked, "Where are the shovels at?"

Avoiding looking over at the bloodstained kitchen, they went out through the backdoor. There was only an unruly, wild field separating the house from the forest. The grass was tall enough to allow people to hide in, if they chose to. But Daryl could easily spot two walkers ambling their way toward them.

But they were far enough to prevent them from becoming too much of a concern. So, they headed to a small shed, it's door already smashed open. Someone had come along hoping they'd find something worth scavenging for. There were still unbroken chains dangling from the lock.

Bella hopped in, and Daryl heard the sounds of metal clanging against each other. He watched as one of the walkers tripped over something, briefly disappearing from view before it stumbled back up.

Soon, they were both walking to the empty stables. There was a wind chime dangling from one of its beams. The wind was picking up, causing it to produce a light, tinkling song. Every high peal resonated throughout the field.

Bella walked up to it and unceremoniously twisted the strings. Unable to sway in the wind, it hung heavily like a dead man.

Sighing, she walked toward the side of the stables. Kicking away an unremarkable reddish stone, she began to dig.

They made quick work of it. Pressed for time, they hardly spoke and focused on the task at hand. Bella only paused to dispatch one of the walkers that had finally reached them. The two duffle bags weren't buried to deep, and it wasn't long before Daryl's shovel met resistance. Glancing around, Daryl saw that they had caught the attention of half a dozen walkers.

"There's another bag," panted Bella. She was already hoisting up one of the bags. "On the far side."

A fat, wet drop splashed onto Daryl's cheek. He took the duffle from her, easily swinging it around his shoulders. He grabbed the straps of the second one. "Ain't time. These and the one's Rick got yesterday should be more than enough."

With rain splashing onto them, the two quickly headed to the car out front with Bella dispatching the walkers. She only stuck down the ones that got too close, not wasting time to take down the others. She trailed behind Daryl, who was carrying the two heavy duffle bags.

As soon as they saw the car, Bella had already pressed the unlock button. Soaked in water and blood, she ran ahead and opened the back door. Daryl wasted no time tossing the bags in as Bella fought off two walkers that had reached them. As soon as slammed it shut, he grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the passenger side.

Once she had closed the door, Daryl used his forearm to push away a walker that was lunging towards him. He barreled his way past the walkers that were closing in, not stopping to take them down. Eventually he fought his way to the driver's side.

The two caught their breaths as the walkers futilely banged their hands and mashed their teeth on the windows. Glancing over at the grinning Bella, Daryl couldn't help but chuckle breathlessly. They were washed over with the soft patter of rain hitting the hood of their car. It was a light rain, and it made it feel like the two were in their own world.

"Do you even know how to drive stick?"

Daryl turned on the ignition and placed one hand on the stick, feeling it vibrate beneath his palm. He met Bella's bright, twinkling eyes. Her hair was plastered gracelessly around her face, and there were dark splatters of blood on her flushed neck and cheeks. Her grey shirt was even more stained, and her wet hair soaked her clothes even more.

"We'll find out," he said. Daryl didn't care about the walkers surrounding them. Or about the oncoming war they had with this Governor.

Because her vitality was breathtaking.

And they weren't ghosts.


	31. Arrow on the Doorpost

"So, you comin' with me?"

Bella slowed to a stop, reluctantly turning to glance over at the one-handed man. She heavily dropped a bag of ammo that Glenn had given her to place around the courtyard in case anybody gets gunned down. "Excuse me?"

"My brother and I -" Merle pushed himself off of the cell block's doorway and prowled forward, his knife glinting from the sunlight streaming in. "We got a few huntin' calls that we'd use." Her frown deepened the more he spoke. She raised an eyebrow, unamused. "He'd warn the others. You can go all Robin Hood on the Governor's ass, and I'll take care of the rest." Merle spread his arms. "We'll be home before you know it."

She chuckled humorously in response, slowly shaking her head. "And why would we want to do that?"

"You know why. These folks here – they're strong, but they ain't killers."

"We told Rick and Daryl that we'd stay _here."_

"And you told me that we are the kind of people that would do whatever it takes to protect our own," he challenged. "Or were those just flowery, empty words?"

She exhaled slowly, turning on her heels to face Merle completely. He was looking at her seriously, leaning on his right side heavily. Like Daryl, they both stood almost stooped, head low – like a jaguar that had spotted its prey and was waiting to pounce. She tried to see more of Daryl in him. They maybe had the same nose, same mouth. But besides that, even their eyes were different.

"We kill him," she said, voice low. "Then what? If what Andrea had said was true, then Woodbury already thinks we attacked them out of cold blood. We kill their leader, then they'll see him as a martyr and us as a threat. This won't stop with the Governor's death."

She studied him, her dark green eyes piercing his. He didn't seem to like that – he had narrowed his eyes. "Don't worry about your brother. Daryl can take care of himself."

Merle scoffed derisively. "Because he's ' _good'_?" He snorted, shaking his head. "Darling, that won't do shit for anyone in this world. If he carries on like this, it's why he wouldn't make it."

"No," she said, not unkindly. "It's why he'd be the last man standing. More so than us two."

Without so much as a backward glance, she heaved up her bag and left Merle to mull over her words.

Bella joined June at the overhead walkway that was suspended over the courtyard, dropping the bag of ammo heavily onto the ground. She could hear the sound of the bullets clinking against one another unsuspectingly. This walkway would be a good vantage point if Woodbury managed to get all the way up here. It would be hard for them to hit whoever was on here from that lower angle, and it would be easy for whoever was up here to shoot them down.

As soon as she dropped the bag, she reached over to help June raise a wood pallet to secure onto the chain-link fence. They pushed it up, and, using some spare wire they've found in some storage units, began to tie it up against the fence.

"So," panted Bella, "how are you feeling?"

June glanced over in a mix of surprise and wariness, squatting as she twisted her wire. "What do ya mean?"

Bella gestured vaguely towards the rest of the pallets with one hand. "About all of it – the Governor, fighting, their negotiation."

The younger girl settled back to sit on the grimy metal floor, crossing her legs as she took a break. She tilted her head, her taut curls bouncing freely as she did so. "I don't think he's worth fighting if it means more lives lost," June admitted. She looked at her mother unsurely but didn't see any judgement, so she continued, "I think this group, after the past winter, can do anything. We can leave and still make it, even with Judith. I just don't want to lose any more people."

Bella looked at her thoughtfully as she handed her canteen to June. "So, you agree with Hershel?"

June shrugged after taking a swig. "The Governor seems like an ass." Bella scowled at her. June raised her hands up defensively. "He just doesn't seem to have a true bone in his body. He's lied to Andrea about who we are and even to his own people."

A breeze blew through, causing them both to shiver. It had been getting chillier, and they've all started covering up more. Bella was wearing her brown leather coat, something that she has still managed to keep onto throughout the past winter. But after all its time out in the sun, snow, and wind, it had darkened considerably and obtained some patchy spots. There was a stitch on her left sleeve from when Carol had thought she was a walker and had accidentally taken a swipe at her with a knife. It was something Bella teased Carol mercilessly about. Carol had felt terrible about it, but Bella dismissed her apologies. "I'll wear it proudly knowing that I had survived an attack from _the_ Carol Peletier," Bella had said.

"Plus," continued June meaningfully, "I don't think he or this prison is worth killing for."

Bella grimaced as she tipped her weight from on top of her heels to sit down heavily beside June. She sighed as the two looked out over the courtyard toward the forest. The wood pallets laid on the floor, forgotten.

The two of them had never really addressed Bella's experience in killing. Bella was pretty sure that June didn't even know exactly how many people. She had never asked, and Bella was certainly not going to be the one to bring it up. Shame always festered inside her whenever it was brought up in front of June.

But Bella has never hidden it from her. When she explained months ago about why they had to leave the ranch and go to the forest and about the people she had run into, Bella didn't state explicitly that she killed those two men. But she didn't need to – June already knew. Just like June knew about Roy's men. And Tony. And Dave.

Bella didn't speak for a bit. She tightened her pony tail anxiously before she said, "You know I'm proud of you, right?" She looked toward June, a growing fourteen years-old. But Bella still sometime sees the seven-year-old girl that had just suddenly become her responsibility. June smiled sheepishly as Bella continued, "I love who you are. And because of that, I never want you to lose that piece of yourself that makes you so good."

"But I don't want to be the reason why," June insisted. "There's always another way."  
Bella sighed. "I shouldn't use you as an excuse. But it will always be my priority to guarantee your safety and mine." She looked at June seriously. "Even if the cost is somebody else's life."

"I get that sometimes there's no choice. That to live we have to kill. But sometimes, I feel like that's avoidable."

Bella stretched out her legs as she said, "I hope that Rick and the Governor will be able to work something out." She looked up at June. "But we both know how it's gotta be."

June looked out toward the forest, lost in thought. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. She seemed unsatisfied with Bella's response, and Bella couldn't blame her. She reached out and lightly nudged June's shoulder. "C'mon. We got two more to put up."

* * *

Bella watched as Merle huffed and skulked away, obviously disgruntled by whatever conversation he just had with Michonne. But it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was about.

With Judith in her arms, Bella lightly bounced her as she approached the latest newcomer. Michonne didn't speak much, but neither did Daryl or even herself. She was always watching – waiting – with the same look that Bella sees in Rick most of all. The intensity and the acceptance for what things are.

She had that look in her eyes even when Bella sat down next to her at one of the common space's tables. Head kept low, Michonne had her eyes narrowed. But there wasn't malice in them. She probably didn't even realize she was doing it. After her outing with Carl and Rick, Michonne did appear more comfortable, even if the change was only slight.

"I don't know why Merle thinks we'd join him on his little crusade." Bella shifted her arms to make Judith more comfortable.

"He's scum," Michonne said simply, voice low and deep.

Bella tried not to smile. She liked honest people. And Michonne clearly wasn't the one to beat around the bush. Voice light, she said, "Sad thing is, I've been realizing he and I are not that much different."

Michonne looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. Bella stared back at her, a faintly amused expression on her face. She couldn't blame Michonne for doubting that. As far as she seen, Bella had been bedridden for days and still couldn't reliably shoot with her bow. And right now, she had a sweet little baby in her arms. But Bella didn't come here to waste time to promote herself up.

"I never got a chance to say," started Bella. "Thank you. For helping me when the Governor came knocking."

Michonne nodded slowly. "It won't be the last."

Bella sighed. It seems that everyone knew their little meeting would be futile. Hell, the whole group was setting up ammo and getting the prison ready for war while Rick was negotiating for peace. "No, it won't be," she echoed.

Judith started making gurgling noises. The two women looked down at her as she raised her little hands up, eyes blinking blearily as she woke up from her nap.

"She's not yours?"

Bella looked up in surprise. There was something off in Michonne's voice – it was softer. Quieter. Michonne was staring intently at the baby, but there was almost fear in her eyes. "No, she's Rick's. Her mother didn't make it through the birth. June's mine."

It was Michonne's turn to glance up at her in surprise. "She's adopted," explained Bella. Judith started fussing around even more. Michonne looked back down at her.

"Want to hold her?"

Michonne reacted as though Bella burned her. Flinching away, she shook her head fiercely and grunted out a short, "No."

Bella couldn't help but stare as the pieces fell together. She could ask, but in some sad way, Bella already knew.

At that point, the door flew open. Immediately, Bella and Michonne stood up as Rick strode in, a flat look on his face. Hershel hobbled in after him, and then Daryl.

"Rick," called out Bella, frowning. Rick slowed down, his eyes lingering on Michonne's. He was tense, and that was never a good sign.

He nodded towards the cell block and said, "We're meeting in here," before striding in.

She chewed on her lower lip, worried. Daryl slowed down in front of her. He glanced down at Judith in her arms before looking at Bella. She tilted her head up toward him, her question on her face. Jaw clenched, he answered with a small shake of his head.

She frowned, but determination was set on her face. Her shoulders squared as she and Daryl walked side by side into the cell block.

Everybody else, including Merle, were gathered around Rick. She stood at the edge next to a window. She felt Daryl behind her as he leaned against the wall on his shoulder, facing Rick.

"He wants the prison," asserted Rick, eyes scanning every person in the prison. Hardly anyone blinked. "He wants us gone. Dead."

Bella sought out June, who stood next to Carl across from her. She casted an apologetic look to her daughter, knowing what was ready to come.

Stony-faced, he clenched onto the rifle slung around his shoulder. "He wants us dead. We're going to war."  
At that, he walked away, leaving the somber group behind to process their thoughts.

Judith in her arms, Bella glanced over her shoulder, meeting Daryl's indecipherable steel blue eyes. Turning around, she also leaned against the wall so that the two of them stood only a foot apart. The sun was shining down on the tops of their heads, casting a shadow on Daryl's face.

The closeness didn't seem to bother any of the two, and they hardly even noticed. Voice low, Bella asked, "What happened out there?"

She could smell the lingering smoke of cigarettes on him. She can't remember the last time she's actually ever seen him smoke. Bella didn't even realize that he still smoked until during the winter. When she would wrap her arms around his waist during their rides, she'd sometimes detect the heady aroma on him. She knew then that he simply chose not to smoke in front of her, and it was because of what she told him months ago during their first hunt. She always thought it was sweet of him.

But she didn't like it because she thought it smelled terrible. It was because it always smelled _good._ Tantalizing, even. Smoky, rich, and deep – she'd always craved it as soon as she caught a whiff. She would always smell it – _him –_ and feel tempted to ask for one. She'd try to convince herself that just _one_ wouldn't hurt, but the shame would ultimately outweigh the craving.

Bella tried to focus as he, unsuspecting of her inner turmoil, answered, "Dunno. He ain't sayin' much about what they said. But it got him all riled up." He paused. "Merle been alright?"

She forced herself to inhale deeply. Resting her head against the cool wall, she looked up at him, her eyes slightly narrowed due to the light streaming in. "He wanted to come riding in to shoot up the place. His plan wasn't bad, if I'm being honest. But it still would've been risky. Tried to recruit me and Michonne."

Daryl clenched his jaw and looked out over the window. She surprised him when she said, "He really cares for you."

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Never cared about nothin' except his own ass."

She hummed quietly, remembering the promise she had made to Merle. She decided to keep it vague. "Then why would he still be here with us?"

Daryl sighed heavily, also leaning his head against the wall. Changing the topic, he asked, "You ready for this? For what's comin'?"

Her lips quirked up, but her eyes didn't match her smile. "Aren't I always?" Not lifting her head, she glanced behind Daryl toward the common space, where everyone else had congregated. She could see June and Carl sorting the ammo, their faces solemn and serious. "But this is still new for them. We've never done anything in this scale."

"They're ready," he said firmly. "We all are."

She closed her eyes and sighed, her breath escaping slowly. Why did everything have to be so hard? Why couldn't they just live in this shitty prison in peace?

She knew it was how things were now, and that nothing will change that. Still, it's lamentable how people treat each other now – especially now. Maybe this whole apocalypse was a sadistic way to eradicate what once was and to allow a restart for humanity – a chance to grow and evolve. But humankind is self-destructive.

"We'll make it out of this," Daryl promised.

Bella slowly opened her eyes, head still against the wall and tilted up at him. Everything just looked so much brighter. Daryl's chestnut brown hair appeared almost gold in the sun. His wide, soulful eyes were the color of the sky. She liked it when he looked like that – open and trusting. Vulnerable.

It was rare to see that look on his face. But she always noticed it, especially whenever they went hunting or even just getting some firewood. It always made her smile.

"Bella, can you ge – oh," Glenn's voice faltered as he entered the cell block. Bella blinked at his red face as she peered over Daryl's shoulder. Daryl, however, hadn't turned around. He was looking down at his feet, jaw clenched.

It was then that Bella realized how _close_ she was to Daryl. The sleeping Judith was the only thing that stood between the two. There was barely an inch of space between Judith and Daryl.

While before it felt like the naturalist thing – she had hardly even noticed - the mere few inches between her and Daryl's faces now felt too intimate. Resisting the urge to step back, she tried not to blush as she resolutely looked past Glenn. "Yes?"

He studied her and Daryl suspiciously but was wise enough to not say anything. "Rick wants to know if you and June can go scope out the tombs if you're well enough. Just to see if there's anything we can do to secure it more."

She still felt warmth in her cheeks, much to her mortification. "Got it."

Glenn nodded awkwardly, stood there for a beat too long, and then spun on his heels back to the commons.

Daryl had attempted to discreetly lean his head back, and he seemed to have found something outside more interesting to look at. Bella didn't know what to say, but then she realized there was nothing _to_ say. They were simply just having a conversation – nothing to freak out over.

Shifting on her back leg, Bella bit her lip before saying, "Do you mind taking Judith?"

He gave a low, short grunt, still avoiding eye contact. Instead, he looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. He squatted a bit to get in level with Bella, and somehow it made her even more hyper-aware of how his arms brushed against hers. She felt heat radiating from him as his arms overlapped hers, but she resolutely refused to look up away from the baby.

Once he straightened up, she took a step back.

"Watch yourself out there," he muttered, holding Judith like she was glass.

Bella took in his obvious discomfort, and she couldn't help but smile.


	32. This Sorrowful Life

**IMPORTANT: I ACCIDENTALLY SKIPPED POSTING CHP 30 - GHOSTS SO IM POSTING IT NOW LOL. PLZ ENJOY IT IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVS TO WRITE AND SO SORRY FOR THE CONFUSION.**

The tense silence that followed Rick's admission was only interrupted by the faint clinging of metal as walkers threw their rotted bodies onto the fence. Not even a breeze interrupted the already cool autumn air. Rick had one hand on his hip, his head low as he studied his and Bella's reactions. Hershel leaned against the outer metal wall of the prison with his crutches beside him. Daryl could see the heavy look in the man of faith's eyes.  
Daryl shifted uneasily, his hand reaching up to grab onto his crossbow's strap. He squinted up at Rick, his voice low. "Do the others know?"

Rick looked down at the ground before shaking his head slowly.

"Y'gonna tell the others?"

"After it's done I will."

Daryl glanced at Bella, who hadn't said anything since Rick told them about the Governor's deal. She wasn't even looking at them. She had turned around and was facing the walkers, the early sun giving her silhouette a hazy outline. She and Daryl had been testing her aim when Rick came around, so her bow was slung around her back. Her shoulders were tense, however, and her arms were crossed in front of her.

Daryl clenched his jaw, as he tried to put his uneasy feelings into words. All that came out was, "I don't know, man. This ain't us."

"No," sighed Hershel. He grabbed his crutches and began to walk away, distressed. "It isn't."

Rick put his hand on his rifle's strap, matching Daryl's position. "It's the only way. We could _live_ after this."

"You really believe that?" Bella glanced over her shoulder towards their leader. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and it allowed Daryl to see her eyebrows slanting down in disbelief. He knew that whenever she was in thought, she wasn't the more expressive person. She kept her thoughts and feelings to herself, at least until the end of the conversation. Bella liked to wait to say her opinion. "You really think he's just going to leave us alone after this?"

"I don't know," Rick answered honestly. "But it's the best chance we have. He has nothing against us, just Michonne."

Bella made a noncommittal sound, turning back to face the forest – towards Woodbury.  
Daryl could tell she didn't like it. Bella wasn't jumping for the plan, and he figured she was more trying to figure out how to say how much this wasn't a good idea. But the way Daryl saw it, Michonne was unpredictable and new. It doesn't mean she deserves to be sent to the Governor, but that she didn't mattered more when it came to the safety of the group.

He slowly nodded, much to Rick's relief. "How are we gonna do it?"

Rick shot him a meaningful look. "We need somebody."

Daryl frowned, so slight it was hardly there. He glanced briefly towards Bella before saying, "I'll go talk to him."

Rick shook his head, his voice heavy. "No, I will."

Rick made way to leave, but he hesitated. Instead, he stopped a few feet from Bella and said, "You said you'd do whatever it takes to guarantee June's safety. That's why we have to do this."

She turned around, lips pursed. She tilted her head. "I'll do whatever is _necessary._ I'm just not sure if this is."

Rick seemed to have considered that, but he slowly turned around and began to trudge back inside.

Daryl and Bella still stood on the walkway. It wasn't until the metal door swung ominously shut behind Rick that Bella said, "This 'peace' that the Governor promises won't last forever. You know that, right?"

Daryl walked up to the fence and gripped onto the metal links. He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes out toward the same direction as Bella. They watched the forest carefully, standing side by side. They were both standing tense and on-edge – much different from the day before.

"I know," consented Daryl, nodding slowly. "But I trust Rick, and I'll follow him on this – whatever choice that may be." He tilted his head towards her and met her intense, emerald eyes. Her skin had a faint golden glow. He echoed her words from just a couple days ago. "He's led us this far."

She frowned, giving off a soft _hm._

They stood like that for a long time.

* * *

Daryl later found his brother in the generator room rummaging through the shelves along the walls. Once he walked in, Merle had tensed slightly until he recognized it was Daryl.

"Hey, little brother," drawled Merle as he leaned back against the counter. He draped his intact arm over the dusty surface as he stuck his leg out. "I was just about to holler out for ya."

Daryl wasn't in the mood to deal with Merle's roundabout, empty words. "What're you doin' here?" He glanced around and saw upturned boxes and papers scattered across the floor. The freshly disturbed dust showed that this occurred fairly recent – all of this was the work of his older brother.

"Just lookin' for some crystal meth." Merle cocked his head.

Daryl's disappointment was palpable. He remembered all the times Merle had staggered home, barely able to make it to his own bed. Merle would collapse on the ground. Sometimes he would start seizing. Daryl learned from a young age to turn Merle onto his side to prevent him from choking to death on his own vomit.

"Yeah, I know." Merle raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Shit will mess everythin' up when life is goin' so sweet, right?"

Daryl had been pacing about the space, eyes scanning around for any signs of walkers. But really, he was just trying to avoid Merle's piercing gaze. "You heard about the Governor's deal."

Merle scoffed. "Yeah. I'm all for it." He leaned forward, causing Daryl to look up. "But Sheriff Rick – he ain't got the stomach for it. He's gonna buckle. Ya know that, right?"

Daryl nodded slowly. "I know."

"How do you feel about that, huh?" pressed Merle.

Daryl pursed his lips. Giving a half-hearted shrug, he said, "What Rick says goes."

Honestly, he'd be relieved if Rick called off giving Michonne up to the Governor. This just ain't them. As far as Daryl could see, that woman earned her place in the group. It's new and fragile, but it's there.

But Merle was less than amused. He stared at his little brother incredulously. There was something else there, too. Something that was new and hard to decipher. Jealousy, maybe? "Do you even possess a pair of balls, little brother?"

Daryl sighed as Merle continued, "You used to call people like that _sheep._ What happened to you? _"_

Something shifted in Merle's face when Daryl didn't respond. "Goin' soft all because of what a pretty pair of eyes thinks. Must be nice to have someone get your bed all nice and cozy."

Daryl bristled at the implication. He felt heat rush up into his face, frustrating him even more. "Shut up, man. It ain't like that."

Merle scoffed. "Because you're too pussy when it comes to pussy. But that woman shouldn't be someone you want to tangle up with, little brother. She's got baggage. Just as fucked up as me."

Once again, Daryl felt like he was missing something. Whenever Daryl would ask Bella or Merle about what the two talked about months ago, they both would veer away from the topic.

But before he could retaliate, Merle cut across first. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black. So different from Daryl's. It was as if he was chewing on nails when he spat out, "You people look at me like I'm the devil – grabbin' up those lovebirds like that. But y'all are tryin' to do the same thing I did. Because this is how people are now."

Daryl shook his head, jaw clenched. "We can't do this without people, man."

It was strange for Daryl to see Merle like this. He was always the loudest, most opinionated man in the room. But now, Merle seemed to be lost and weary. Daryl could see Merle try to formulate a response, exhaustion evident on his worn face.

Merle gave a humorless chuckle. "Maybe I'm just the person they need. The _bad_ guy." He smiled at his little brother, his dark eyes flat. "How you feel about that, huh?"

While Merle felt unsure and astray, Daryl has never felt more certain on who he was. "I just want my brother back."

* * *

It wasn't even an hour after that talk when Rick proved Merle right.

Daryl was waiting in the courtyard, crossbow at the ready for the scuffle about to go down. Michonne knows how to fight, and he knew she wouldn't hold back when it comes down to it. Should be easy enough to handle considering there was only one of her.

He walked up to the outer fence, looking out to the gate. Bella and Carl were standing guard. They were talking animatedly about something – maybe about the comics Bella had found him from the prison's library. All the while, they were still staring out resiliently towards the forest, alert and aware of the nearby dangers. The huge box of ammo stood not far from them.

Winter would be coming soon. It was already chilly out, and everyone had taken to wear sweaters and jackets. Bella was wearing her worn, brown leather coat, hair tied up. Her strands blew in the brisk breeze.

Not long after Daryl focused on the two, Bella had glanced up and met his gaze. She frowned ever so slightly, knowing why Daryl was there. Although she never said explicitly she was against the plan, it didn't mean she wanted to play a role in it. She had gotten closer to the sword-wielding samurai these past few days. But Bella knew how it has to be sometimes.

If it meant that Daryl had to do the dirty work for the sake of Bella and the others, he'll do it without hesitation – no matter the cost.

Still, he couldn't help but feel relief when he heard Rick's uneven strides followed by, "It's off. We'll take our chances."

Daryl broke away from Bella's eyes and said, "I won't say it was the wrong call, but it definitely wasn't the right one."

Turning to face Rick, he saw him pacing around anxiously, eyes flickering around the courtyard and the forest. "What's wrong."

"I can't find Merle or Michonne. They've gone."

Daryl felt a sinking feeling in his stomach at Rick's response. He knew where to go, but he also knew Merle would be long gone by then.

Running towards the generator room, he heard Rick following close behind. Eyes flitting towards Bella, he saw that she and Carl were watching them intently.

The two broke through the metal doors, and Daryl immediately began to scan the ground for any tracks. "He was in here. Said he was lookin' for drugs." Stupid, thought Daryl. "Said a lot of things actually."

He circled around to the back, Rick following ever so intently. There was a pillow case lying on the ground. The dust around it had been kicked up. He could see at some point Merle had knocked Michonne down to the ground, partly dragging her with him.

"Here we go. Took her here and mixed it up." Daryl stood back up and began to head back out. "I'm goin' after him."

"So will I," responded Rick immediately.

"You can't track for shit," Daryl cut across bluntly. "Just me. I said I'd go, and I'll go. Plus, you and your family need to get ready for when Woodbury comes back here."

Without waiting for Rick's response, Daryl strode out back into the courtyard. Breaking into a sprint, he gestured towards Bella and Carl to open the gate. He ran down the gravel road toward the two, as Bella called out to him, "Where are you going?"

"Gettin' my brother back. Took Michonne with him."

He skittered to a brief stop, small rocks flinging forward. He slipped out before Carl had fully opened it, but before he could break off running again, Bella went through also. "I'm coming too," she stated.  
Daryl stared at her incredulously, a bit of frustration trickling through. "Stay here. You need to be here for what comes after."  
She snorted. "I'm coming to make sure you'll still be here for what's after." She shouldered her bow. "Let's go."

He wanted to fight against this. Daryl knew that with the way the Governor plays, there will likely be a small army waiting for them. Bella had just recovered from her concussion, and although she shoots fine now, he didn't know how'd she fare in a gun fight. She had her daughter waiting for her – safe. If Bella gets hurt because of Merle – because of _himself_ – Daryl would never forgive himself.

But they were running out of time. Merle could already be halfway there. So, as a last chance, he shot across, "You can't leave your family."

She looked back at him just as incredulously. " _You_ are part of that family." Without preamble, she took off running across the field. Leaving behind a taken aback Daryl to slowly catch up.

It wasn't long when they broke through the expanse of the forest. Rick and Daryl had planned on taking this road to the meet-up, and Daryl had no doubt that it would be the same route that Merle would take. But along the road was a lone Michonne, who was stabbing her sword through the snarling, decapitated head of a walker.

"Hey," barked out Daryl. He could hear Bella behind him, also slowing to a stop. Michonne looked up at the two warily, her eyes steady and levelled. Daryl could see her grip on her sword tighten.

Out of breath, he narrowed his eyes. "Did you kill my brother?"

It was almost as if he was daring her to say yes. He wasn't particularly hostile. More like he was bracing himself for the blow. No one can kill Merle but Merle. But Merle wasn't here, and she was.

But Michonne slowly shook her head. "He let me go."

Daryl released a tense breath he didn't know he was holding. He could feel Bella hovering behind his left shoulder. If he turned his head, he would see her watching him carefully.

Daryl didn't know what he'd have done if Michonne had said yes. He wouldn't accept it at first. The idea of Merle being killed seemed ludicrous. But he knew that if he lashed out, Bella would be there to tether him.

"Don't let the others come after us," he growled at Michonne before running off, Bella close behind.

* * *

It felt like he was running in sand. His lungs were burning, heaving for oxygen. He hardly focused on that or the ache in his legs. It had been about an hour of Daryl and Bella running to the mills. They hardly said anything, focused only on making it. He didn't know what he'd find there. It was already past noon, and the Governor has long since known that Michonne wasn't coming.

But no gun-armed trucks have zoomed by since they've hit the road. There were no signs that Woodbury was coming or had come by already. But the closer they got, the more walkers populated the area.

The two had taken out over a dozen of walkers. Hardly any managed to even lay a hand on them. They typically spotted them out on the long span of road ahead of them. They'd shoot them down without slowing a beat and simply yank out their respective bolt or arrow as they went. But most of these walkers were old – neither Woodbury or Merle.

Still, something went down. Whether the walkers were led here or attracted by a gunfight – or both – remains to be seen.

But once he saw the tall, metal cylinders of the mill, he slowed down. Walking towards the entrance, his eyes scanned the area, seeing only the occasional walker.

Daryl turned towards Bella, who had her bow at the ready. Meeting her gaze, he made a circling motion – go around and scope the place. He could see the hesitation she had on leaving him, but she gave a short nod and broke off. He watched her slip and weave between the cylinder structures.

He slowly walked his way inwards. He scrutinized the ground which was littered with walkers. They were all shot, most likely by the Governor's army. Some of his soldiers were dead on the ground now, fresh blood pooling around their corpses. Daryl could hear the faint snarls of other walkers who were still ambling around and feasting on the fresher bodies.

A breeze swept through, bringing momentary relief from the nauseating rot that blanketed this graveyard. He turned a corner and saw even more bodies. He easily shot down a walker that was crouching over one of the soldiers.

Daryl aimed toward another walker, but what he saw caused his blood to run cold. For the first time during this apocalypse, Daryl froze.

The walker had the familiar buzzcut and the telltale stump of an arm. But still, it wasn't until it looked straight up at Daryl that caused him to stagger.

Merle's dark brown eyes were now foggy and pale. His skin had already lost its color and hold. He wasn't looking at Daryl – he was looking at food. Bright red blood covered his chin, a strip of flesh hanging obscenely between his teeth. His shirt and hand were also soaked with the fresh, dripping liquid.

The horror and grief hit Daryl hard. He could hardly think as the walker – _Merle_ – staggered up. A sob broke through the serious and tense disposition Daryl had carried with him throughout this whole chase. He was focused and unafraid until now. Now, he felt alone more than ever as he watched Merle lumber clumsily towards him, arm outreached.

Tears were streaking down his face as he pushed Merle away. Undeterred, it stumbled back before making another attempt to throw itself on Daryl. It snarled at him, an inhumane, guttural sound that Daryl had never thought he'd hear from Merle.

But no matter how hard Daryl pushed, the walker still came back at him with a single-minded focus. He felt the hard, cold muscle underneath Merle's blood-soaked shirt. It had a single gunshot wound at the heart. Daryl bet he could even see through it if he wanted to.

His frustration grew the more it tried to come back. Anger at his brother's death, anger that he'd never see Merle again. Anger that Merle finally left for good.

Finally, he gave a final heave, causing it to fly backward onto the ground. Before Daryl could even think about it, he had his hunting knife in his hand, and he was lunging towards the animated corpse. Seeing red, he raised his hand and let it fall with violent intent. Daryl felt the sickening feeling of Merle's skull giving way to the sharp edge. He felt the still warm blood soak his hand and splatter onto his chest, but he still never gave way.

He could hardly see by the time he was done. Tears streamed down his face, causing everything to blur in and out of focus. The ache in his chest was growing, as the realization of his brother's death was becoming fresher and more real.

Something touched his hand, and he jerked hard. Disoriented, it took him a while to realize it was Bella, who was crouching beside him. She had a solemn look - her skin was paler, and her eyes appeared glazed. Still, she was steadier than he was right now.

So, he allowed her to slowly pry his hand open, allowing the bloody knife to clatter onto the dirt. Daryl tried to contain his sobs, but the more he looked at Merle's prone body, the more he felt like he couldn't breathe. He tried to turn away from Bella and moved so his back was facing her.

He had an arm braced onto the ground, supporting himself as he hunched over. His head was drooped, his hair forming a curtain between him and the world. He tried to focus on the blades of grass beneath him, tears dripping down to the point of his nose. He watched a drop slide off and splatter next to a drip of blood.

But then Daryl felt something warm behind him, and something sliding to his waist. Her arm was wrapped around his waist, as if they were riding his motorcycle – back in the simpler days. She was holding onto him, and he felt her head resting on his back, near his shoulder. Bella was hugging him, he realized. Holding him together.

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, he clumsily raised his on hand and put it on top of hers. He held it tightly. He knew he'd be embarrassed by this later. Daryl hated creating scenes such as this. When he was little, if he ever threw a tantrum, he'd either be mocked mercilessly or beaten. But he felt her wrapped around him and slowly began to feel warmth seep back into his body.

Daryl didn't know how long they sat like that. He just knew that eventually his sobs quieted, and he was left feeling exhausted and empty. At some point, Bella had let go. He felt her get up and heard her quietly walk away.

He didn't question it. He didn't even move. He sat like a statue up until he heard her light steps approach.

He didn't look up as she walked straight past him. He heard the rustling of cloth as she covered Merle's body with a dusty sheet she had found.

It wasn't until she walked back right in front of him and stood there expectantly that he raised his head. She was standing patiently as he gathered himself together. Daryl probably looked pathetic as hell. If Merle was here, he'd be unforgivingly taunting him.

But Bella was Bella. Voice quiet, she asked, "Do you want to bring him back to the prison?"

There were two shovels in her hands that she had scavenged. He stared at them blankly, a beat passing before he shook his head. "No. Here."

Bella nodded, not questioning why. Instead, she held out a shovel.

Daryl took in a shaky breath, feeling himself steady out. But the world tipped over, as he struggled to his feet. Bella stood patiently, letting Daryl do this by himself.

His fingers brushed hers as he reached for the shovel. It briefly warmed him, and Daryl clenched onto the handle tightly as her hand fell to her side.

He followed her blindly as she trekked over the other bodies. Her steps were steady and sure while Daryl felt more out of balance than ever.

His voice came out hoarse when he said, "The others – the Governor might be on his way already. We don't got time for this."

They stopped at the edge of the mill, where only a pond stood between the steel buildings and the forest. It was hardly a pond. More of a small marsh. But there was something beautiful about the tall cattails swaying in the light wind. The autumn sun casted a golden glow over the shallow water.

Bella shook her head as she surveyed the ground. "After what Merle did to the Governor's men, he's not ready to take us on just yet." She looked up at him, her eyes as bright as ever. "We have time," she assured.

Then, they started to dig. It was a familiar action, something they've both done before. The thud of the shovel first hitting the dirt followed by the softer sound of the scoop of dirt falling to the ground created a steady rhythm that drowned out everything else. Daryl felt the ground's resistance and would feel a sense of satisfaction as the dirt gave way.

It was numbing at first. But the deeper the hole got, the more he was reminded about why they were there.

Still, he would've kept going. He would've dug deeper and deeper, and he wouldn't have noticed how the walls were getting taller and taller around him. He would've – if Bella hadn't put her hand on him arm, stilling his movements.

They lifted Merle into his grave, his body heavy yet hollow.

Bella and Daryl stood at the edge briefly. She didn't say anything as Daryl breathed in deeply, hand tightening on his shovel.

Then he continued to dig.


	33. Sazarac

Bella sat on top of a rock, one leg pulled to her chest with her chin upon her knee. The wind picked up, sending a chilly gust that rustled through her hair. Her eyes surveyed the open space before her, noting a walker that was blindly stumbling its way toward them. It would be a while until it reached them, so for now, she patiently waited.

There were a handful more walkers around that were approaching. Bella's gaze shifted toward Daryl, who stood a dozen feet ahead, back facing her. She couldn't see his face, but he stood very still – tense. The man wore his heart on his sleeve, and Bella knew he didn't want anyone to see.

His cries had long faded, and now, he was as still as a statue as he looked over Merle's fresh grave. Bella honestly didn't know what to expect from him now. He was always one of the strongest in the group. His ability to bounce back from horrors such as Hershel's farm and any other unfortunate surprises was well established. Daryl rarely seemed fazed for long and was always ready to do whatever necessary.

But now, Bella recognized, this was not something he couldn't just recover from. The group had lost so many since the start, and Daryl was always the one that pushed the group into moving forward rather than tosink into grief. But he grieved, Bella knew, in his own way.

Most of the time, it was through anger. Frustrated by the situation, Daryl would throw himself at a problem. She remembered all the times Daryl had stormed around the farm: angry about Sophia, angry about his brother, angry at _her._ Although he's gotten significantly better at controlling his urges, his recklessness was still something to be wary from.

And he's never had a better reason to get angry than now. So, Bella anxiously waited for some sort of explosion. She didn't know how she would stop him if he decided to go after the Governor himself. If she had already thought about it, Daryl certainly has already. And she'd go with him. She knew if this was June in Merle's place, no one would stop her. Better to have his back than for him to go alone.

Bella's eyes swept their surroundings once more. The walkers were getting closer. She could hear their snarls.

Swiftly standing back up, she made her way to Daryl's side. Looking over her shoulder toward the beaten-up car, she murmured, "We have company. We have to go soon."

Daryl's blue eyes were steady when they met hers. It made her anxious.

But he simply nodded and, casting one last look at the freshly turned dirt, he stalked his way to the car without a glance back. Bella didn't ponder over this for long, as a walker tripped over a log not five feet away.

She hopped into the passenger seat of the car, where Daryl was already waiting. She slammed her door shut just as another walker lunged toward her, hitting the window fruitlessly.

The engine slowly rumbled as it struggled to start up. But finally, words began to blast through the speakers.

 _Turn it up, turn it up, make it louder than hell  
Turn it up, turn it up, make it ring like a bell_

The song was loud and aggressive, and no doubt it was picked by Merle. There was an empty bottle of liquor that still had fresh drops inside. Although the signs were subtle, it was clear that Merle was in this car not a few hours ago.

When the song began to blare out, Bella saw Daryl's hand tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles white. When she glanced at him, she saw his jaw was clenched as he reached for the radio system and turned the volume down.

Bella was never typically good at this. Whoever is? And she knew that if he ever wanted to talk about it, he would do so in his own time.

So, she didn't push him. They sat in silence as they sped down the empty road, disturbed leaves rustling behind them.

Bella still didn't push him when Daryl abruptly turned right, his foot stomping on the brakes so suddenly that Bella had to hold onto the car door to prevent herself from flinging. She sat warily as Daryl rode up to the front of the bar, where garish neon letters were painted on the front.

 ** _BIG JAKE'S_**

 ** _HAPPY HOUR FROM 5PM-8PM_**

Eyebrow raised, she looked at Daryl in slight disbelief. But he ignored her look and instead kicked his car door open and strode up to the wide-open door of Big Jake's.

Sighing, Bella slowly followed him, eyes scanning the fresh tracks of Merle. This was where Merle had gotten his last drink. And now his mourning little brother wants to get drunk during an apocalypse. And she gets to babysit.

She trudged inside, warily standing at the entrance as her eyes scanned the aftermath of what appears to have been a brawl. There were decayed and dried bodies that had appeared to have been part of a gunfight. Most of the tables and chairs were turned over or broken. Some of the bodies were clearly put down by either one of the Dixon brothers, one of who was now prowling along the shelves of alcohol, many of which were remarkably intact.

Bella walked over to Daryl, who was studiously ignoring her disapproving face. But to his obvious surprise, Bella shooed him to the side. "Go away," she grumbled. "I got this."

She reached for a familiar bottle on one of the higher shelves and felt the satisfying slosh of the amber liquid inside. Glancing around, she lightly plucked a dusty glass and placed it on top of the wooden counter, a dull thud echoing the stale room.

She could feel Daryl watching her warily as he picked up an overturned bar stool and sat on it, the counter separating him and her. Bella reached for a green bottle. She gave it a suspicious whiff before nodding approvingly.

Placing her hands on the edge of the bar, she rocked back on her heels as she surveyed the contents under the counter. To her relief, she found the Angostura and Peychaud bitters. They're probably long expired, but you can't have a Sazerac drink without it.

She mixed and added the contents, the sharp smell of alcohol wafting through the room. She couldn't help but feel a bit at home as she went through the movements. It was like muscle memory. Being a bartender was something that she strangely missed.

Daryl was watching her make it, his elbows resting on the counters and his clasped hands in front of him. When she finally slid the amber drink toward him, his blue eyes looked up at her. She could tell she interrupted whatever he was thinking. In response, she just raised an eyebrow as she neatly began to put back the bottles.

Every time he finished a drink, he would slide the empty glass back to her where she began to make something else. She felt like _he_ was entertaining _her_ – letting her play around with mixing drinks rather than him chugging down a bottle. But he still drank whatever she gave him, and it didn't seem that he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

But the more he drank, the quieter he seemed to get. His eyes were still red, but other than that, he didn't seem to get as angry than Bella thought he would. He didn't spill out any thoughts or talked about whatever he was feeling – not that Bella expected him to. But she's never seen a drunk Daryl, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. As a bartender, she's seen every type of drunk there is. But Daryl just drank and watched silently.

It wasn't until he finished his fifth drink that he finally interrupted the mutual silence.

He had just set down his glass before he nodded at her. "You a bartender, but you don't drink?" He spoke slowly, but his words weren't slurred.

Bella's lips quirked up just a bit. She reached for his empty glass, already having another drink in mind. "I learned how to bartend young. Did you know you could get a bartending license at eighteen?" She turned around to reach for another bottle high on the shelf without stopping to speak. "Obviously, I still drank. I learned what it was supposed to taste like and how much of which I should put in. And once I decided to stop drinking, it never really affected how I bartended."

Daryl nodded slowly, settling back into the silence from before.

She slid the glass back to him, which he tipped back and gulped it down without any preamble. When he set it back down, she tilted her head, finger tapping against the counter. "Had enough?"

Daryl glanced up at her. His eyes were a slightly glazed, and Bella couldn't tell if it was from the drinks or something else. Honestly, Bella gave him a lot to drink, and she was a bit surprised he wasn't stumbling around or speaking freely.

His hand clenched around his glass tightly as he glanced back down at the glass. He stared at as if willing it to refill itself.

"Y'know," Daryl started. His words were drawn out and low. Bella could hear the gravelly undertone in his voice from all of the smokes he had in his life, which was even more pronounced by the alcohol. "Merle was a shit brother."

He glanced up at Bella, who had her elbows rested on the table, hands clasped in front of her. They were mirroring each other, and it seemed to had cause even more disorientation for Daryl.

"He was a shit brother," Daryl repeated. He picked up his glass and pointed at Bella with it. "Y'know where he was durin' the outbreak? In prison. I went to go haul his ass outta there to find out he had already got himself into shit. He had locked himself up on top of a police station's roof, and I found him delirious and red from the sun burnin' his ass."

He set his glass down harder, causing other empty bottles to shake. Bella didn't even blink.

"Then he gets us into a fight with his old gang and drug dealers. Almost _died_ just so that asshole can get high durin' the end of the world."

His words started to slur even more the louder he spoke. "He didn't come lookin' for me. Not like I did. He was the only person I had. Even if he ain't ever there for me. Not when we were kids – left me alone to deal with our ol' man."

"Not when our old man finally dies after gettin' bit. Guess who had to deal with that?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Always said he was gonna end our pops. As usual, he didn't live up to his words."

Daryl jumped up as he began to pace around. He was remarkably well balanced as he stalked, his glass clenched into his hand. Still, his words were sharp and had begun to mesh together. "He always was runnin' when things got too tough. Threw around big words and even bigger punches, but that man always was gone if things weren't goin' his way."

He stopped suddenly in the middle of the room. The sunlight streaming through the windows behind him gave a soft glow around him. The unsettled dust in the air floated slowly and blissfully around the man who stood as taut as a bow string.

"And now," spoke Daryl bitterly, so low that Bella almost didn't hear him. "Asshole's dead."  
Bella could _feel_ him tense up before she even saw it. With those last words, he suddenly chucked his glass against the wall. The abrupt movement and the loud crash that followed finally caused Bella to flinch back in surprise.

The light tinkling noise of glass falling to the ground was at paradox with the heavy atmosphere that followed. Bella forced herself to exhale, her shoulders relaxing even though her fingers remained clenched against the edge of the counter. She looked up at the stained ceiling, blinking quickly as she tried to regain her footing.

This wasn't a good idea. Being here. The sound of glass breaking, the way Daryl had tensed before he struck. She shook her head as memories from _before_ crept back. Not memories from before the outbreak, but from before June.

But she shook out of out. That was _years_ ago. This was _Daryl._ And when she glanced back at him - her breathing steady – she could see a hint of shame on his face. He wasn't looking at her, but he was looking at the broken pile of glass reproachfully.

She was relieved her voice came out steady when she said, "Merle had made many mistakes in his life. He knew that." Daryl still didn't turn to her. "But he always had you in mind, even if he never showed it."  
"Daryl." When he finally looked up at her, she saw streaks of tears on his face. She felt an ache in her chest. She swallowed before saying, "The reason why we are going to be able to stand a chance and _live –_ the reason why _you_ are going to live from this is because of your brother."

She shook her head incredulously. "He told me days ago that he was afraid of the Governor and what he was capable of. Merle fought against him to allow you and everyone else back in the prison to stand a chance."

"He wasn't perfect. But he did this for us. That's something we can honor him for."

Bella bit her lip as she made up her mind. Merle and she had an agreement, but she figured he wouldn't care about it much anymore. "Merle and I – back at the market?"

That caught his attention. He looked at her warily as she said, "Merle talked about his little brother the _whole damn time."_

She snorted. "He decided to get drunk and started going on about you. He never said your name. But he did say that he knew he wasn't good for you. Said all he wanted was to toughen you up - so you could _survive."_

"He mentioned that you guys were with a group. Merle said there was no way that they would take him back after whatever stunt he pulled in Atlanta. But that it didn't had to be that way for you."

She gestured at Daryl. "So he left. He left you, so that you could be with the group. He thought you'd have a better chance with them than him. And he was right. Now, you are here with us. And all because of him."

"He wasn't perfect," she repeated, her voice softer. "But he loved you."

Bella walked around the counter over to Daryl, who had his face covered with his hand. His shoulders were hunched over, and his whole body was tense. This was the lowest she's ever seen him, and it broke her heart.

Standing beside him, she put her hand on top of his shoulder. She felt the soft, worn leather of his vest as she then rested her head on top of her hand. She could smell the alcohol and the cigarettes.

They stood together for a bit with Bella comforting Daryl in their own way. She listened to his breathing, waiting until it slowed down at a steady rhythm.

Voice quiet, she murmured, "We should head back. They'll be worried."

She heard Daryl breathe in deeply before feeling him nod. At that, the two slowly made their way back to the car, relishing the sun's warming rays.

* * *

 **AN: The story about Merle and Daryl is based off of the Survival Instinct game.**

 **alSO DONT FORGET TO CHECK OUT CHP 30 GHOSTS which i forgot to post in order l o l**


	34. Winter II

**_A_ _N:_ IMPORTANT:**

 **Season 4 is starting after this purely fluff-filled chapter! I just wanted to warn you guys that as the show gets darker, SO WILL THIS STORY. I know that lately it's been pretty happy and everything, but the direction I plan on taking is meant to make sense of how the group (and Daryl) hits a low point.**  
 **I'm personally excited, bc i love angsty stories. That doesn't mean there won't be ANY happiness and such, but YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

* * *

 _December_

Bella and Daryl stood side by side, heads tilted and eyes narrowed as they squinted at the arrow that had just been embedded into the tree's trunk. Bella tried to hide her smile as she said encouragingly, "You know, even though that wasn't the tree you were even aiming for, that was a nice shot."

Daryl frowned at her, her black bow still raised into position in his hands. It never ceased to amuse Bella to see him carrying it. He always held it gingerly, as if afraid it would snap in his hands. That was part of the problem. His grip was too awkward, and his fingers would often overlap.

"I'm serious," Bella said unconvincingly, her smile widening. "This time you actually hit something."

Daryl scowled. "You ain't much better with my crossbow."

His beloved crossbow was slung around Bella, much like how Daryl typically carries it. It looked larger on her than it did on him. She had a gloved hand gripping the strap, the other on her hip as she looked at him with mock offense. "Excuse me, but I actually was able to _hit_ the target spot on."

"Because you had a good teacher," snorted Daryl, a small smile gracing his lips.

In response, Bella just laughed as she shook her head. She pointed at him, her face suddenly becoming serious. Voice low, she said gravely, "It takes years of intense practice to master archery. Your fingers will bleed and many bruises will come."

Daryl scoffed. "Shut it."

All in all, Bella had to admit, he wasn't that bad. This was only their fifth time practicing, and he was able to at least string the arrow and let it fly strongly. The two were often paired together to hunt – it wasn't ever really a question. They would go out almost every day in a different, new direction in hopes of catching unsuspecting game. It had gotten repetitive to do the same thing every day, so lately they had started switching weapons. It was always beneficial to gain a new skill set, but it was also incredibly amusing.

Ever since the prison had suddenly taken in about forty people from Woodbury a month ago, Rick has understandably been pushing the group to scavenge and hunt as much as they can. It was already winter, and although snow hasn't fallen yet, it would only get harder in the next month.

Bella and Daryl's jobs were to catch as much as they can to feed them for the next day. Whatever the others can scavenge will be saved for when snow begins to fall and hunting would be almost impossible. They already had plenty of rabbits, squirrels, and the like strung on their lines.

Bella was quite handy when it came to the crossbow. What she struggled the most with, however, was loading the bolt. She now understood why Daryl's arms looked the way they do. With a 160lb draw weight, it required 80lb to pull back the string. She literally had to place it against the ground, put her foot on the stirrup, and heave the string into place. Plus, she had to make sure the bolt was aligned precisely straight. Otherwise, the bolt will fly either left or right. Daryl had the decency to retain his laughter when he would watch her struggle, as he was able to load a bolt in less than three seconds without setting it down.

So, they spent most of the day like any other: learning, laughing, and all in all enjoying each other's company. The threat of the Governor's return seemed to have faded with every passing day and having more people in the prison literally livened things up. They didn't have to stretch themselves thin with guarding and runs, or even just cooking, cleaning, and watching the kids. They had people now, and the group were able to feel something akin to safety and comfort for the first time since Hershel's farm.

It was too soon to tell, but they had all begun to really believe Rick when he says this place could be something more.

Bella was in the arduous process of loading a bolt when Daryl, who had been looking up at the sky, said, "We should probably head back soon."

She felt the satisfying snap of the string once the bolt was secure. Embarrassingly out of breath, she looked up at Daryl in surprise as she hefted the crossbow up. "We still have an hour or so to spare."

They typically didn't start heading back until an hour before sundown. From what she could tell, it was still a bit after midday.

At Bella's scrutinizing stare, Daryl gave a noncommittal, awkward one-armed shrug. He visibly hesitated before he said, "Got quite a bit of game already."

Realization slowly dawned on Bella, and she could see him become much more nervous the longer she stared at him and didn't say anything. Daryl being nervous consisted of him pacing around anxiously, looking at anywhere else other than her.  
Groaning, she bluntly asked, "What the hell is June up to?"

Daryl grimaced and had the grace to look ashamed. "She's planning a dinner." He paused before saying in his dry-humored way, "Happy Birthday."

She raised an eyebrow at him, less than amused. "I told her not to tell anybody. I didn't want to celebrate last year and definitely not this year."

Bella saw him trying to hide a smile as he said, "She said that now that we ain't runnin', livin' in the forest, and movin' day to day, it ain't a bad time to celebrate these things."  
She looked at him skeptically. "And _you_ , Social Butterfly Daryl Dixon, agree with her?"

He again shrugged. She decided she was going to smack him the next time he shrugged. "Be good for the kids."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he raised his hands in defense, her bow held awkwardly in one hand. "I was gonna warn you beforehand at least. June wanted it be a surprise, but I figured that ain't the best way to approach this." She watched him curiously as he got visibly more uncomfortable. He shifted to his other leg. Bella waited for him to work up the courage to say what he needed to say.

She figured it would be something along the lines of "June wants to pie you in the face" or "She got you some rocks." But instead, in a low voice, he muttered, "I have somethin' for ya."

At that, Bella's suspicious expression smoothed out into surprise. A small smile crept onto her face as she took in Daryl. "Like a present?"

Daryl grimaced and simply said, "I guess," before swinging around his pack.

Typically, they brought a pack for food, water, and whatever supplies they might need for their day trips. But clearly, Daryl had thought ahead.

"I wanted to give it to you now, before whatever chaos your little girl has planned starts." He rummaged through the pack a bit, as Bella, without subtly, tried to peer inside. Without any preamble, he practically shoved the bundle at Bella.

She felt the smooth, soft material of leather in her hands. Already smiling, she shook out the bundle revealing a worn, black leather jacket.

"To replace that one," he muttered, nodding at Bella's own brown jacket that she has carried with her for years. He always said she needed a new one, especially since it had its fair share of stitches and ripped seams. "Found it when I went out with Michonne a week ago."

She laughed in disbelief as she took in her new jacket. Shruggin off her old one, she replaced it with Daryl's gift. It was probably meant for someone a bit larger than her. While her brown coat was snug and fitting, this one had loose sleeves than bunched at the ends, and it hung down to thr top of her thighs. She remembered back in high school how all the "cool kids" had jackets like these, and how she always envied them for it.

"It might be a bit big." The more he talked, the more embarrassed and quieter he sounded.

She looked up at him in surprise and said sincerely, "It's perfect."  
With that, she wrapped her arms around him. She hugged him tightly, her hair pressing against his cheek. She smelled the pines and smoke that always lingers on Daryl, before saying, "Thank you."  
He held onto her before clearing his throat and gently stepping back. She didn't take offense, as she knew Daryl was uncomfortable with these things. In fact, she grinned at him before saying, "I feel like I was just initiated into your biker club."

* * *

 _January_

"Nope. Not at all," snorted Glenn. He tried to play it off, but his face had turned a tomato red.

"Oh, come on," laughed Bella. She was grinning as she took in the visibly uncomfortable man. It seemed only to spur her on even more. Daryl, meanwhile, was shaking his head and dutifully continuing on nailing the pieces of wood together. "You gotta tell us now. If you're concerned about Maggie, I promise I won't say a thing."

That only made Glenn even more embarrassed. Sheepishly, Glenn responded, "She already knows."

That only caused Bella, Sasha, and Tyreese to goad him on even more. The five of them were in what was once the basketball court, which was now in the process of being transformed into an outside cafeteria. Currently, they were building a cooking station and a picnic table. While it was still much too cold to even put into use, they were all already preparing for when spring comes. It would be a nice change of scenery to eat out here rather than the steel cafeteria, which still had Hershel's blood stains on the floor.

"Okay, fine," relented Glenn. He stood up and dramatically sighed, shaking his head as if he was about to reveal his darkest secret. "It was junior year of high school."  
"It always is," interrupted Sasha thoughtfully, causing everyone to snort.

Glenn ignored her and continued on as if she hadn't said anything. "She was the coolest girl in our chemistry class. I asked her to prom, and she actually said yes. And after prom, we did what all boys and girls do."  
He stood up straight and pointed his hammer at his audience, who were all grinning from ear to ear. "I lasted about _maybe_ five minutes _._ "

The group roared with laughter and even Daryl had let out a snort. Glenn waved them off. "Alright, alright. It's all of y'all's turn."

Sasha looked at Tyreese sheepishly. "Remember your friend Zeke?"

Tyreese looked at his younger sister aghast. "Not Zeke."

She nodded. "Zeke."

Sasha looked out towards the others and explained, "Zeke was Ty's best friend growin' up." She grinned. "Zeke and I were pretty close too."

Tyreese looked up at the sky, hammer in hand. "Lord, give me strength in case I ever see that bastard again."

Then it was Bella's turn. Looking a bit ashamed, she stood up straight. She had also been nailing in some boards together to make some picnic tables. Squinting off towards the forest, she dramatically looked off into the distance as if in hard thought. It only made the others more curious. Daryl, however, wanted to be anywhere else than here.

But then she admitted, "I don't remember."

Glenn pointed his screwdriver at her. "Bullshit."

Bella raised her hands in defense. "I swear. I don't remember who was my first." She shrugged. "Clearly, it was nothing worth remembering."  
Sasha laughed. "Just too many guys I see."

Glenn chortled as he shook his head. "No fucking way. What's your secret to snatching up those poor miserable bastards?"  
Bella raised an eyebrow, her grin getting bigger. "You really want to know?"

Everyone nodded, all except for Daryl who had settled back on the floor. He simply looked at her as he took a swig of water from his canteen, an eyebrow raised expectantly. Partly amused, partly uncomfortable, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to hear about Bella's past escapades.

She gestured at her walker blood-stained, ill-fitting, and mismatched clothes. Her tone was serious, but she was audibly trying to hold in her laughter. "You gotta make men think your body is some kind of secret temple, you know?" Immediately, Glenn started roaring with laughter. Bella also started laughing, but she swatted him away as she tried to gain back her intellectual tone. "I'm fucking serious. You got to make them think it's like the holy grail when really it is the public park open for business."

"I was a _slut_ in my early twenties," she raised her hands up in defense, ignoring the cackling being admitted by the group. "Unstoppable and hungry, I admit. But I was living my best single life, and I wouldn't have had it in any way."  
She sighed sadly, nostalgia tainting her voice. "Ever since I hit twenty-six, I became as celibate as a nun. So sad."

The others were smart enough not to push Daryl for his story. In fact, he didn't say much after this conversation. The next time Glenn and Bella worked together, he'd be sure not to stick around. The two had a rather inappropriate sense of humor that only seemed to come out when it was just them. They always seemed to spur each other on, and while people typically enjoyed hearing their banter, Daryl decided to miss out on their next talks.

But later, while Daryl was fiddling with his bolts in his cell, Bella had waltzed in with an innocent expression on her face. He knew what this was about.

"Shut u-"

" _Happy Birthday,"_ she sang softly, her voice hushed.

Daryl grimaced. At least she didn't yell it out loud. He wouldn't know what to have done if the whole cell block suddenly scrambled in shock to do a last minute celebration.

He had hoped she'd forget he ever told her. The only reason he ever even told her was because she _begged_ for him to tell her after he gave her a birthday present last month.

He didn't like birthdays. They were always a form of disappointment, even as a kid. _Especially_ as a kid. He'd been lucky if his family even remembered. Daryl used to anxiously wait for his old man or even Merle to say something to him. But they rarely did, if they were even there at all.

Last year, when they had spent the winter running in circles after Hershel's farm, he didn't even think about his birthday. The days passed and blurred, and then they were at the prison.

Before he could kick her out unceremoniously, she raised a hand to shush him. "I swear I won't make a fuss. I won't even tell June." Daryl scoffed, to which Bella amended, "Well, at least not tell tomorrow – _after_ your birthday."

She raised a flat cardboard box. "Ta-da."

Bella gingerly placed it in front of him on his bed, slowly and carefully as if not trying to scare him. He still eyed it suspiciously. Thin and unexpecting, it sat there.

"You ain't gotta get me anythin'."

Leaning against his bedpost, she just raised an eyebrow. A small smile was gracing her lips, but she was obviously trying to hide it.

Sighing, he reached forward. As soon as he picked it up, he felt how light it was, and he heard the sound of several light items sliding around.

He couldn't help but smile when he guessed what it was. He began to open it when Bella offered, "It's not much, but it's something."

Removing the dented, musky lid, he revealed the wooden black and white pieces along with its matching checkered board. Daryl chuckled and looked up at Bella, the queen piece in his hand. "It's always somethin' when I beat you at chess."

She rolled her eyes and sat at the end of his bed. "Sure, Dixon. Just because it's your birthday."  
And they played for the rest of the night.

* * *

 _February_

Bella has never seen Daryl so anxious. She swore he'd be biting his nails right now if he wasn't holding his motorbike steady. He stood to the side of the bike, his hands besides Bella's as the two gripped onto the bike's handlebars.

She waited patiently as Daryl fought his nerves. He first glanced down the long empty road in front of them, then at the bike, and then at her. They were only inches away from each other, but they were both too worked up to even notice.

While Daryl was all nerves, Bella felt like she was vibrating. She felt exhilarated even though she hadn't moved a centimeter. But she knew if she grinned at him, he would immediately freak out. So, she looked at him, eyes wide and lips pressed together.

He exhaled. "You ready?"

She nodded quickly, hands tightening on the bars.

It was hot that day. The sun was beating down on them that day – the hottest it's been since last summer. She could practically smell the burning asphalt and the sharp tang of gasoline from the motorcycle that has been in idle for the past twenty minutes. She wanted to wipe away the sweat from her forehead, but she figured that small movement would be too much for Daryl to handle.

Daryl clenched his jaw, and he narrowed his eyes down at her. "Remember: pull clutch, first gear, release clutch, and _gently_ twist the throttle."

She tried to sound controlled. "Got it."  
"Y'ready?"

She tried to not sound impatient but did not succeed. "I have been for the past half an hour."

He scowled. "You get a single scratch on this thing, I will hunt you down."

She rolled her eyes. "And here I thought you were concerned for _my_ wellbeing."

"June would beat me to shit if you got hurt," he relented.

She snorted and batted him away with one hand. "Shoo. You're distracting me."

Grimacing, Daryl backed away. He immediately crossed his arms, one clenched hand raised to his mouth as he anxiously observed Bella.

She tried not to focus on how he was obviously analyzing every small move she made. Ignoring the agitated grown man, she kicked back the kickstand, pulled the clutch, placed into first gear, released the clutch, and _gently_ twisted the throttle.

After weeks of pleading and challenging Daryl, he had finally agreed to teach Bella how to ride. Granted, that was only after she had won the deciding game of chess. They had spent five whole days sitting beside the bike for hours as he pointed out the controls, levers, and even the history of motorcycles. Daryl was very knowledgeable in all things motorbikes, and she rather enjoyed listening to him as he nailed down every knitty gritty detail.

But her patience had soon worn thin when they spent another three days just learning how to properly twist the throttle. She had finally snapped (" _I fucking know how to gently twist the throttle,"_ she had hissed), which actually led them to having another argument.

 _"Y'ain't ready to ride my bike."  
"Are you shitting me? I refuse to have spent the past two weeks listening to you drone on and on without me actually learning how to ride it!"_

Then she had brought up his inadequacy with a bow and arrow (which, she might admit, might've been unnecessary), and everything had gone downhill from there.

It was a long and petty affair that soon the whole prison had become aware of. Bella was rather miffed at his petulant attitude. She wouldn't say she was giving him the silent treatment, because that was just damn childish. But she would say that she just happened to stray towards wherever he wasn't, much to his exasperation. She still played chess with him, however. But only when he wasn't there.

That was how he knew that although she was offended by his decision, she wasn't pissed. But still, he stopped by her cell one day to with a white flag, and they discussed the terms of their new agreement. Granted, it was more of Bella outlining of what she _refused_ to do rather than Daryl gaining anything.

The bike immediately jumped forward, but Bella was prepared for it. It scared the hell out of her - the way it propelled forward and the sheer amount of power in her hands. She felt everything vibrate under her while the wind hit her face. It was exhilarating and scary as shit.

But she made the twenty yards safely. Slowing to a stop, she immediately twisted around and waved joyfully at Daryl, who looked like he had just woken up from a nightmare. Relief evident on his face, he raised a hand and waved her to come on back.

Riding a motorcycle was always something Bella had wanted to do in her life. But still, she admits, she rather prefers Daryl riding.

* * *

 _March_

Daryl exhaled as he hefted up what was once a cell's metal gate. Muscles straining, he heaved it over to the truck's bed where it landed with a loud clang as it banged against other cell doors.

The prison numbers were now almost up to seventy, which meant more cells were needed and more cell blocks were being cleared out.  
He stood up, straightened his back, and stretched his sore arms out. His signature vest was over his sleeveless button up, revealing his toned, tan arms. His eyes instinctively surveyed the land in front of him as recovered his breath.

Daryl could see Rick and Carl at their little farm that had been flourishing as of late. Already, the amount of runs and how often they had to go out to hunt had decreased dramatically from it.

Right now, the father and son were finishing building up the pen for the wild pigs that Glenn had found a week ago.

There were about a dozen of fencers – people whose job was to do walker crowd control. Everyone had to pull their own weight, but the council understood that not everyone was ready for the intensity and unpredictability of doing runs and leaving the prison. For the safety of themselves and others around, one can choose to sign up to work along the fence or security instead.

While there were quite a few walkers currently banging along the walls, the fencers should be able to deal with them in the next hour. It certainly wasn't the worst they've had.

He breathed in deeply, relishing the cool, fresh air. It was that time of the year when the weather was perfect – breezy yet sunny. Not too hot, and not too cold. The sun was lighting up the whole world right now.

It would've been a perfect day to go hunting, thought Daryl, a bit wistfully.

"Hey, Pookie."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he turned towards Carol who joined his side.

Besides Bella, Carol was one of the few people in the world that Daryl could enjoy talking to. Ever since the council was formed, Carol had grown into a stronger person and leader that Daryl could admire. So different from that frail woman from the beginning, Carol had a sharper mind and tongue than he would've expected.

Carol nodded at the truck with the cell gates and said, "Glenn and Tyreese are coming soon to help. They just finished removing the rest of the gates in cell block A."

"Alright. Sounds good."

He was still looking out over the land when Carol, who wore a suspicious smile, chuckled.

He glanced at her warily. "What?"

"She'll be back soon," she assured him, still grinning from ear-to-ear. In response to his scoff, Carol continued, "You've been looking at the road nonstop this whole time. It's been a week – Bella should be coming back either today or tomorrow."

He didn't realize that his eyes kept straying toward the empty gravel road, but he did recognize that constant unease he's had ever since Bella left. Which he knew was ridiculous. Both of them leave the prison almost every day. But rarely ever this long. Just not knowing made the ache in his chest fester with every passing day. He always passes her cell on the way to his cell for bed, and her empty cell reveals she isn't back.

Daryl also knew that she should be perfectly fine. They haven't lost anyone in weeks, and the prison just seems to be thriving with every person that joins their community. The runs are more calculated, and they always scout ahead to make sure that every mission would be planned for. The threat of starvation and food had long passed, and the people _lived._

"It's just been a while," Daryl relented.

He narrowed his eyes when Carol's smile ceased to go away. It was as if she knew something he didn't, and she wanted him to know that. "What you grinnin' about?"

"It's just," Carol shook her head. "Are you ever planning about-" she gestured vaguely. "You know."

He raised his eyebrow and mimicked her gesture teasingly. "What is this?"

"You and Bella – together?"

Immediately, Daryl balked. He had a strange moment of fight or flight – that point where it feels like ice was splashed over the back of his neck. He physically jolted as he actually went slack-jawed at the woman who had the audacity to ask him something that Daryl rarely ever dared ask himself.

Thinking about it, it was a vague question. It could've meant anything, but Daryl had automatically understood the implication, making this even more mortifying.

Feeling his face warm up, he struggled to come up with the words. But it was hard when he couldn't even straighten out his own emotions.

Thankfully, Carol smoothly continued, ignoring the grimacing Daryl. "It's just we are all in a good place right now. You don't have to be afraid on making commitments such as this."

He could lie. He could deflect. But Carol would be able to see right through him. And Daryl has always been honest – something that Bella points out. So, voice low, he physically deflated before he admitted, "I don't know."  
He shook his head before continuing, "Bella and I – we are in a good place right now. I like bein' with her. I don't want to ruin that. I don't want to change it."

And it's true. Whether they went out on runs together or standing guard or playing chess – everything was as easy as breathing. He doesn't remember a time before this – before even the outbreak – that he's ever felt so at home. And a lot of that was due to the relationships he has made here. Rick, Carol, Woodbury. But Bella was the most important. That he could admit.

He didn't have to second guess himself around her. They've gotten so close, and he's never been so open with anyone else. It was wild to think that over a year ago, he had thought of her as just a lunatic who lived in a water tower.

He was happy now. So, he didn't _need_ their relationship to change.

But clearly, Carol thought otherwise.

He saw it in her face, so he continued, "I mean it. And she ain't interested in anythin' like that."

Carol snorted. "You don't believe that."  
He raised an eyebrow at her. "She's young." She shouldn't be interested in Daryl, who was a decade older than her. "She's got June. I know her, and she won't prioritize anythin' over her girl. For good reason."

"If you know her, then you know she cares for you too," Carol pointed out.  
"But not in that way," insisted Daryl. He restlessly rocked on his heels. "I don't need her to be either. I can live happy just bein' around her."

It was pathetic, mused Daryl. His heart felt like it was pounding just by entertaining the idea of this. This whole conversation was putting him on edge. Daryl felt like ants were crawling beneath his skin. He never talked to anyone about anything like this, and he's never even felt anything close to how he feels about Bella toward anybody else.

From before when he drifted around with Merle, he never made any meaningful relationships. He may have had "friends," but they were just people he may have gotten drunk with or borrowed money from. They weren't people he would've died or fought for – not like the people he has now.

He didn't even remember ever having a serious relationship. Maybe high school. He's never even told a woman he loved her. His drifter lifestyle from before ensured that any interactions with woman consisted of uncomfortable situations that were often unnecessarily initiated by his older brother. He didn't stick around for long, and he hated even making conversation with them.

But Bella wasn't just some woman.

Still, he refused to entertain the thought of him and Bella together. He couldn't.

At that moment, he heard raised voices coming down from the gate. Looking away from Carol, he saw two horses galloping out from the tree line onto the gravel road.

Daryl felt a jolt as he immediately zoned in on Bella. She was sitting on Trotter, a midnight black horse that June named (she originally wanted to name him Walker). He could see that she was wearing her leather jacket he'd given her months ago. Her hair flew back as Trotter moved quickly towards the gate, a blinding smile on her face.

Michonne followed on her own tan mare not far behind. Daryl watched as the gates swung closed behind the two.

Bella jumped off of her horse easily, and someone came to lead him away. All smiles, she and Michonne started heading towards the prison – towards Daryl, whom she hasn't seen yet. But a blur suddenly started streaking across the green grass.

He could hear Bella's faint laugh as she opened her arms, where a frazzled June barreled into her arms. There was shrieking and laughter emitting from the two as the reunited after not seeing one another for a week – which in this time, was a lifetime.

The three walked together with Bella having one arm across June's shoulders. At almost fifteen, June was now almost as tall as Bella, much to the latter's consternation. If you counted June's curly, tall bun, then she would then be considered taller.

Bella was in the middle of talking with June when they approached Daryl and Carol. She didn't even notice they were there until she was only a couple of feet away.

Her smile grew wider when she met Daryl's relieved expression, her green eyes widening in surprise. It blinded him, and he felt his lips quirk up. She lifted her free arm up victoriously as she lightly sang, "I'm back!"

Carol met her in a hug, leaving Bella in front of Daryl. He opened her arms, and she easily walked in. That was another thing new from his time in the prison – Daryl actually hugs.

Bella had the distinct scent of honey – heady yet sweet. Her hair was pressed against his cheek. He wore a small smile as he wrapped an arm around her, but it quickly turned into a grimace when he met Carol's knowing look.

Gingerly stepping back, he tried not to appear as agitated as he felt. He felt like everyone knew the nature of Carol and his conversation. It didn't help that once he stepped back, Bella was curiously scanning his face. Her head tilted and eyes wide, a small smile was beginning to creep up on her face.

"What?" He shot at her defensively.

Her smile grew. She shook her head lightly, but she never looked away from him. "It's just-" She suddenly reached up and brushed her hand through his hair. It was a calming, soothing action, but he still moved slightly, more out of surprise than anything. But he didn't stop her. "Your hair is different. Longer."

They hadn't seen each other in over two weeks. It was strangely the longest they've ever been separated. Daryl had been gone for a week long run, and by the time he came back, Bella and Michonne had already left to go search for the Governor. Typically, Daryl did a quick chop to his hair every few weeks. But he hadn't done it in a couple of weeks, allowing his longer strands to frame his face.

He self-consciously reached up to touch his hair. She dropped her hand as he muttered, "Gotta cut it soon I guess."

She chuckled. "But I like it. It's a good look."

She threw him a wink as she walked past him. He could only answer with a "pft." He was glad she didn't get to see him get flustered, much to Carol's amusement.

* * *

 _April_

"SURPRISE!"

June attempted to feign shock on her face as her mother grinned at her, the smugness palpable as if Bella had managed to accomplish some victory.

June knew that Bella lacked subtly, at least around her. It was impossible for Bella to lie to her, at least successfully. Almost every time the two talked together, Bella carried some faux innocence and deliberate ignorance regarding June's upcoming fifteenth birthday.

It was always the same every year. June's early recollection of Bella consisted of her adopted mother attempting to make the most of every situation. June couldn't specifically remember all the financial strain they had went through in the early years. They never had a whole lot of money, but June knew the moment Bella took her in, that was also the time Bella had first begun to apply for jobs to sustain herself and a child.

So, they didn't have much in the beginning. June was always fed and taken care for – that June knew without a doubt simply because she didn't remember any of that bad stuff. But looking back now in the photos, she could see a thinner Bella in more worn clothes. She could see the threadbare and patchy furniture that were jumbled together in the one bedroom flat.

It was evident in how June's seventh birthday – her first birthday under Bella's care – Bella had taken her to a local Italian restaurant. Nothing too fancy to a normal person, but they rarely ate out back then, and Bella had managed to save enough to treat June to a fine meal.

They had only gotten one slice of cake, which Bella refused to take a single bite. But the double fudge chocolate cake is something that June still remembers with awe. What impressed the young girl even more was the way all the waiters had come to sing her 'Happy Birthday.' They'd end up coming back every year to eat at the same tiny, dingy little restaurant. Even when money became less of a problem, the two couldn't resist eating at Antonio's.

Bella had always made it a priority to celebrate June's birthday (and yet Bella still complains when June tries to celebrate Bella's? Ridiculous.) June could tell every year something was up by Bella's sudden nonchalance and her smile that always came out a little too big and a little too scary if June was being honest.

That same smile was on her mother's face right now as Bella proudly gestured toward the newly finished Patio.

This was actually the first time it would be put into use. Everyone in the prison had helped one way or another in building it for the past month. Once they had finished the grilling station (after going out on a run and scavenging for grill parts), it was now ready.

There were streamers and banners alike strung about the columns. Bright strands of ribbons weaved in and out all around and billowed in the light wind. There were even string lights draped all around, creating a beautiful lit space. Posters with crayon drawings were taped around – no doubt provided by the half dozen kids in the prison. And people – the rest of her family – were standing around singing 'Happy Birthday' with off tune, joyful voices.

Not everyone was there, of course. At least a third of the prison were finishing up the day on guard, kitchen, or any other evening duties. But the important ones were: Daryl, Rick, Carol, and everyone else who's been with them since the early months.

One by one, they all came forward and gave their own hugs and exclamations. They were all together, and the setting sun was shining. The birds were chirping, and it was all in all an ideal fifteenth birthday, ignoring the walkers that were snarling at them from the fence.

Later, when it was dark and the stars were lit, June settled back on her seat besides Beth and Carl and gazed around. Everything was aglow underneath the bright full moon and the still twinkling lights. Soft breezes would occasionally blow through, causing the table cloths and streamers to billow. There was even music playing. There was a stereo in the recreational room of the prison that Bella had put into good use ever since she found it.

Everyone was in good spirits – Glenn's team had found a rather generous amount of alcohol in their last run. June could see her mother not far away, grinning and looking more carefree than June has seen in years – even from _before_ the turn. Sitting beside Bella, the normally "surly" (as Jake likes to describe him) Daryl gave a rare laugh at whatever story Bella was saying to the group. Sure, it might be from the few glasses that Bella had made for them with her old bartending skills, but June could see the way Daryl looked at the woman next to her.

June relished in the atmosphere, just like everyone else was. These moments where everyone was all together – not on runs or duty or off fighting walkers – were exceptionally rare. Every day, everyone was almost in constant motion. There were always things to fix, retrieve, or plan, and that won't ever change. Even now, a few people would trickle in and out as they switched out for guard shifts. But in this moment on her fifteenth birthday, they were all together. Happy.


	35. 30 Days Without An Accident

Bella stood beside Carol, her elbows on top of the counter as she bent over while curiously watching Carol cook the deer for today's lunch. A soft breeze swept through the outside eating area – affectionately called by all as the Patio. It wasn't strong enough to blow away the mouth-watering scent of the meat and spices.

As Bella was absolutely useless when it comes to cooking, she simply watched while Carol spoke of how the kids were doing. Carol was typically in charge of the kid's education and day-to-day activity when she wasn't doing council duties. Everyone had their own main role. Bella's role consisted of running around wherever the council agrees on. Whether it's for runs, hunting, or scouting, she would often spend the day out beyond the walls and come back by sunset.

Her role would often overlap with Daryl. But since they were considered what everyone would call "skilled " - as in they were trusted to handle themselves when shit happens outside the walls – they were typically in charge of their own separate group for the day. But if the location was a big hit like today's, then Daryl and her would group together.

"You know," started Bella as she lightly plucked one of the sliced pieces of deer meat from Carol's grill, ignoring the woman's reproachful look. Bella felt the searing heat lick her fingertips as she snatched it away. "Patrick will have to start learning how to be out there soon. He's June's age and more than old enough."

Before Carol could reply, voices suddenly began to chime out from people throughout the seating area.

"Good morning, Daryl."  
"Hi, Daryl!"

"Mornin,' Daryl!"

The Daryl in question was strolling towards Bella and Carol, nodding to people as he passed. He looked at ease and untroubled. Bella enjoyed seeing Daryl grow into something more than just Rick's right-hand man. As part of the council, Daryl grew into his own person that wasn't under somebody's shadow – whether that be Merle or Rick. It also meant that he slowly became more open to others, and it was easy for people to see that although Daryl might not always have a lot to say, his heart was in the right place.

"Now remember," said Carol when he joined them at the counter. "We liked you first."

Scoffing, he fluidly swiped Bella's strip of meat that she was about to munch on. With an eyebrow raised and without looking away from her, Daryl tossed the whole thing into his mouth much to Bella's aggravation. She narrowed her eyes at him, but the smile creeping onto her face took away from the threat.

"Get your own," snorted Bella

"Now, now," Carol interrupted. She placed a plate of food between the two. "There's always more."  
Appeased, Bella and Daryl each began to eat from the plate.

Daryl suddenly stood up straighter. "Almost forgot." He reached into his sleeveless, black button up's pocket and pulled something out. Placing the king chess piece on top of the counter, he slid it towards Bella. "Checkmate."

Bella sighed as she plucked the white piece and felt the smooth wooden grain beneath her thumb. "Well, shit."

She pointed at him seriously. "Next time. I'll get you." She pocketed the chess piece.

It's been a bit of a tradition for them to take the winning chess piece. Since they rarely ever finished a game in one sitting, she'd often stop by Daryl's cell whenever she had the chance throughout the day. She'd move a piece. Leave. Comes back later to find that Daryl had moved a piece. Then repeat. At the end of the day, they'd typically play for about an hour before hitting the sack.

If the person won, they'd snatch the other's king until they find the other person. Just a petty way to brag about winning the match.

"C'mon," she nodded at Daryl. She plucked the last piece of meat before Daryl could reach it. "Carol asked me to show you something before today's run."

But before the two could part ways from Carol, a young man walked up eagerly. "Mr. Dixon, Bella." Patrick clasped his hands out in front of him. "I'd just like to say thank y'all for bringing back that dear yesterday. It was a real treat."

Bella and Daryl glanced at each other – Bella's eyes were revealed her mirth while Daryl looked at her incredulously.

Patrick continued, oblivious to their amusement, "It would be a real honor if I could shake your hands."  
He stretched out his hand, which Bella gingerly accepted.

Daryl, however, was a different story. He first looked at Patrick, not unkindly, but as if debating the pros and cons to this. Then he looked at Bella, who was now grinning at him. She subtly nodded towards Patrick, encouraging Daryl to shake his hand.

So, with great emphasis, Daryl licked his fingers one by one before meeting Patrick's hand in a solid shake.

Shaking her head while trying unsuccessfully to swallow down her smile, Bella led Daryl out towards the outside. She pointed down towards the outer fences.

There were dozens of walkers pressing along the gates, their rotted faces snarling and teeth chomping. They stuck their decayed fingers through the holes, but the dozen fencers on duty would be quick to stab them in the head. Even from over twenty yards away, she could hear their inhumane groans and snarls.

"More came in overnight. They're piling up, so we need more people to deal with them. We might not be able to take a lot with us on our run today."

Daryl squinted down at them before looking at Bella beside him. "The place is good to go. Shouldn't need too many people anyways."

She hummed in agreement, but her eyebrows furrowed in concern as she scanned the tree line. More walkers were lurching out towards them. "Carol says there's dozens more towards Tower 3. It's getting pretty shitty."

Daryl nodded. "The more of us there are in here, the more there are of them that gets drawn out. When there's enough they start to herd up."

"Hm." She sighed as she leaned her head on Daryl's shoulder lightly, her arms crossed. It was normal for them to make small gestures like this, and they hardly even thought about it when it happens. Daryl didn't even look down. "We could try drawing some of them away when we leave for the run."

He nodded. "Right."  
At that point, the two heard a familiar young voice sing, "Good morning!"

Bella lifted her head from Daryl's shoulder as they both turned around. She was already smiling as she met June's beaming face. "Oh, look who's finally up," tuts Bella. She gave a peck to June's forehead

June snorted. "The smell of food woke me up." She looked out towards the walkers, her hazel eyes warm in the sun. "Yikes."  
"'Yikes' indeed," agreed Daryl.

"We'll be heading out soon," Bella told June. She put a hand on June's shoulder. "Go help Carol in the meantime. She's going to plan on how to deal with those walkers out there."

June frowned. "Can't I come with you guys?"

Before Bella could protest, June pressed on. "You said that you two already dealt with the walkers there and scouted beforehand. You _said_ it would be an easy in and out – get what we need and go. And you said-"

Bella waved her arm exasperatedly. Daryl watched with curiosity. Useless as always. "Alright. I know what I said."

She scrutinized her daughter closely. "Why do you want to go out anyways?"

June looked at her innocently. "The same reason why you and Daryl always go out." She shrugged. "I don't like being stuck here for the whole time."

June gave Daryl a pleading look. "C'mon, Daryl. I handled myself the last time I went with you."

Daryl gave a one-armed shrug back. "My word don't mean a damn compared to your mom's." Okay, Bella decided. Maybe he wasn't so useless.

But Daryl then spoke towards Bella. "But the Big Spot ain't bad. Could have her watch over the entrance and stand guard."

Bella wrinkled her nose as she squinted at June. June had gone with her and Daryl a few times these past few months. It was an unofficial agreement among the community that kids don't leave the prison. June was still the youngest to be let out. Bella only allowed her to go with either Daryl or her, and only when Bella knows there was a minimal risk. Scouting a new location was a big no. But going back afterwards was okay.

"Alright," sighed Bella. She nudged June's shoulder with her arm. "Hurry up. The others are packing up the cars already."

Wary that her mother could suddenly change her mind, June bolted without further prompting, her tight curls bouncing in unison.

"She'll be alright," offered Daryl as the two walked to the gates where the cars and his bike were already lined up. "She's more capable than half of the group."

"Perhaps. But still an unnecessary risk," she pointed out. "Anything can happen out there, no matter how prepared we may be."

She hefted up a pack and threw it onto the back of the truck as Daryl responded, "Aren't you just a ray of sunshine today."

Bella grimaced at him.

As they were finishing up packing, Beth and her new boyfriend, Zach, put on a whole show in front of the two.

"It's gonna be dangerous," offered Zach hesitatingly.

Beth patted him on the cheek and said, "I know," before walking off, a smile on the blonde's face.

"You're not even gonna say goodbye?" He called out incredulously.

"Nope."  
Daryl scoffed, shaking his head. He hopped onto his bike as he snorted, "Like a damn soap opera."

Bella smiled at that as she shut the truck's back door. She moved toward the driver's seat, but Daryl called out, "You ain't ridin' with me?"

Hand pausing on the door's handle, she looked at him with mock consideration. Head tilted, she hummed as if in deep thought. "Depends. Would you let me ride?"

"Hell, no."

She flicked him off before joining him on his bike.

* * *

Daryl and Bella had checked out the Big Spot during yesterday's scout. One of Woodbury's people, Charlie, had told them about the walker infested jackpot. So when they heard about how this market was filled to the brim of bloodthirsty – _flesh hungry –_ monsters, naturally the two had to go check it out.

And infested with the infected it was. Dozens of walkers were ambling around dumbly when they rode up to the gates. With only a simple chain-link fence separating the living and the dead, Daryl and Bella had to plan ahead. Scouting the fence all the way around to the other side, they decided to simply detract the walkers' attention toward something else.

Leading them out into the forest was out of the question – sooner or later they'll run into other survivors and eventually even to the prison. Taking them out would be a waste of arrows and time. But luckily, they came prepared. Bella's beloved stereo in tow, they set up a stereo.

Blaring Stevie Wonder out all night, the stereo had led all the walkers to the other side – allowing today's group to roll right up to the empty gates.

"Was a military safe-zone. They the ones who set up these chain-links," explained Daryl to the group. The six of the others were spread out around Bella and Daryl, the two who were in charge of this run.

"We go in and do a standard sweep before we go into the Big Spot," directed Bella. "The herd should be way back behind the building. Still, don't cause any commotion. We don't want any coming back our way."

Daryl cut open the gates - Dale's old bolt cutters still here after all this time – and the group milled in. Bella took up the rear, but not before she briefly stopped June with a hand outstretched.

June sighed exasperatedly but held out her gun. Bella performed a quick check on it as she said, "Don't go too far back, you hear me? Stay close to these gates, and then head to the front entrance."

"Yes, m'am."

Bella walked in, lightly closing the gate behind her. Her eyes carefully scanned around the chaotic mess of medical tents sprawled all over what was once a parking lot. She was surprised a lot of them were still standing. It's been over a year since the outbreak. Rain, snow, and nature still left this camp relatively untouched.

It was the bloodstains and bullet holes throughout that told what the true reason for its destruction was. It was eerily empty – only the forgotten shirts and cloths still pinned up to dry were softly fluttering in the wind.

Eventually, she headed towards the Big Spot's front entrance. Daryl was leaning against one of the windows that had "SEMI-ANNUAL SALE" blaring out in bright red. At Bella's thumbs-up, he banged hard against the window, its glass reverberating underneath the force.

Zach, who was beside him, made to get up until Daryl waved him down. "Give it a minute," said Daryl.

Bella leaned against the wall beside the main doors. June joined her not long after (only after Bella had waved her over, leaving little room for argument) as Zach declared confidently, "I got it."  
June raised an eyebrow as Daryl scoffed. "Got what?" she asked.

"What Daryl did – you know, from before."

At this Bella cocked her head curiously, a smile growing on her face as she took in Daryl's dubious expression. Even Bella didn't know what he did from before. He never particularly liked talking much about anything from before if she's being honest. He'd occasionally reference his brother or his father – but never himself. It was always about someone else.

But she respected it. Bella didn't like talking about her life before June – something she was sure he picked up on about her.

It didn't matter to her who he was from before. Bella knows Daryl now, and that's all she needs. She better than most knew people can change. Bella wouldn't even recognize her own self from ten years ago. There were somethings that had to be buried.

Still, what _did_ Daryl do from before?

He shouldn't be embarrassed, reasoned Bella. It's not like she was much back in the day.

"He's been tryin' to guess for a week now," snorted Daryl. He didn't sound concerned, but he had begun to shake his leg impatiently. He was anxious, Bella noted. Uncomfortable.

"Nah, I got it now." Zach gestured widely, as if he was about to give a profound speech. "Get this: a detective."  
An ungraceful snort emitted from Bella as she tried – and failed – to contain her immediate urge to laugh. She covered her mouth as she continued to chortle.

"What's so funny?" shot at Daryl, but even he was beginning to smile.

"It's just- " she shook her head. Her smile grew into a grin. "I can see it." She made the same gesture as Zach. "Detective Daryl Dixon."

"It's just y'know," started Zach unconvincingly. "The way you are at the prison: you lead people, and you're still out doing all the hard stuff. But you're still- " He waved his hand around as he comtemplated the right word. " – _surly."_

Bella and June finally burst into laughter.

One corner of Daryl's mouth quirked up. It was subtle and immediately recognizable to Bella. It was how she could tell he was joking when he spoke seriously to Zach, "You right. I just don't like talkin' about it much. A lot of heavy stuff, y'know?"

Zach perked up. "Man, you're serious?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

Bella bit her lip as she tried to contain her laugh.

Right at that moment a loud bang interrupted their conversation.

"Ready, Detective Dixon?"

"Y'know it."

"You're on watch," said Bella as soon as Daryl shoved open the double sliding doors. As the rest of the group shuffled in, Bella and June could hear the familiar, almost normal sound of a knife stabbing through a skull and rotted flesh.

They both ignored the background commotion as June narrowed her eyes at her mother. "You serious?"

"Of course," Bella responded, unmoved by June's clear displeasure. A loud clatter followed by Glenn's colorful swearing came from inside. "You are under my rules, darling."

Before June could protest further, Bella sauntered in the store, blowing a kiss teasingly to her daughter.

The inside was dark but appeared remarkably untouched. Full shelves of food and drinks greeted the eager team as they all spread out throughout the market. Grabbing a cart, Bella curiously glanced around as she headed towards the snacks sections. These typically lasted longer than other goods. Well beyond their expiration date, the survivors knew that most of the snacks were still relatively edible.

It felt remarkably comforting as she scanned at the variety of ramen in front of her. With the smooth plastic handle underneath her hands, she propped a foot up against the cart's lower rail. Hunched over the cart, it felt like it was another day at the store. Maybe just after work, she'd come here to grab some things for dinner or June. So domestic.

Without ceremony, she gracelessly reached over and simply swiped her arm, knocking down a whole shelf of ramen into her cart. She did the same thing for every row until she already had a full cart.

On the way back to the front of the store – where June had become a makeshift grocery bagger whose job was to move all of the goods back to the cart – she passed by Glenn in the technology aisle. There were cameras and batteries all hung up on the wall. They both considered the findings – Glenn had already put most of the batteries and other things such as flashlights in his cart. But now he was looking at a Polaroid much like June's.

She considered it before swiping some more film for June. When she had retrieved it back when Daryl and Bella had gone back to their ranch for their gun supply run a couple months ago, they had easily run out of film. June has been "documenting" their time here whenever they find film for her. Giving these to her will probably stop her from sulking.

By the time Bella reached June at the cars, it was clear that they would need to come back again. Half a dozen cars filled to the brim with various necessities were piled comically around a disgruntled June. The store was practically a treasure mine, and they didn't have enough room to bring everything in one trip.

But before either June had a chance to further express her disgruntlement or Bella could offer her bribe, a booming crash resonated from the inside of the market. The sound of broken glass and the dull thud of something heavy made it clear something had either fallen or broken through. Bella was already sprinting towards the entrance as she shouted over her shoulder, " _Stay here._ Walkers nearby could've heard. Shout if there's any!"

Her eyes had to adjust to the darkness as she tried to make sense of the commotion. There wasn't any snarling nor screaming – which is always a plus. "What happened?" She called out.

She could hear Daryl from somewhere towards the back. "We alright. Shelf fell on Bob."

Not knowing whether to snort or sigh, she headed towards their direction. As soon as she found Daryl and Tyreese over the said-fallen shelf, she stepped towards them. But as if the universe decided to give out another "fuck you" a walker fell out of the ceiling.

Because why not?

The whole group – because no matter where they were inside, there was no way they _couldn't_ see this – stared slack jawed at the unlucky fellow who was dangling with its slimy, shining intestines caught on the ceiling lights. Swinging stupidly like a gaudy Halloween decoration, it gave a snarl before gravity took over and smashed him to the ground – it's old, thick blood exploding all over the floor. It groaned weakly at them, having had landed right between Bella and the others.

The smell was always what Bella despised the most. Not the rotten flesh or the cloudy eyes, but the rotten stench of festering flesh.

"I think it's time to go," called out Bella, deciding not to directly address the new makeshift painting on the floor.

Everyone immediately snapped out of their shock, and Daryl and Tyreese rushed to help Bob. But before they even could touch him, the booming sound of more walkers breaking through and falling all around them met them. Falling all over, the group darted out of the way of any rogue corpses and debris.

One fell right in front of her and on top of the first walker. This one was much livelier and managed to stumble up – reaching towards her clumsily but quickly.

It forced her to head back to the aisles and away from Bob. She easily dispatched it with her bow, but then another took its place.

It was disorienting – stumbling over debris in the dark and not knowing where anyone was. She could hear the exclamations, the growling, and crashing all making one cacophonous musical piece. The sharp, rattling pops of a machine gun going off reverberated. When another walker got too close, she swung her bow around and grabbed her knife strapped on her arm guard in a fluid motion. She felt the slimy flesh as it squelched around the hilt of her blade.

She dashed towards where she last saw Daryl and the others.

Standing on top of several boxes of beer cans, Daryl was surrounded by walkers who were hungrily reaching for him. He and Bella had a brief moment where they shared a look of exasperation and disbelief, something she would find humorous to think about later. She used her bow to take two out, and then used her knife when she got closer. Glenn soon rushed in to help, covered in guts that were hopefully not his.

A loud yet slow, groaning sound of metal giving way momentarily drowned out all of the other messy noises. Looking up, she saw what appeared to be a helicopter tipping over and about to squash Daryl.

" _Get out!"_

Daryl leapt towards her and Glenn as soon as the helicopter fell over. The ground shook, and the air was full of dust and debris. Coughing and hacking, the three rushed towards Zach who was attempting to help Bob.

Glenn and Bella stood beside each other as they shot down walkers with their respective weapons of choice. She could only hear Zach and Daryl behind them as they freed Bob. As soon as she saw Bob up and standing, she shouted, "Let's go!"

But a loud wail that caused her heart to stop a beat, met her ears. They've all heard it before, and more often than not it was a dead man's cry. Turning around, the group watched with horror as Zach was being dragged under the same shelf that trapped Bob. Maybe they could've saved Zach and amputated his leg. But this walker was quicker and lunged for the neck.

The look of agony on Zach made him look impossibly and heartbreakingly younger. It was then that Bella was reminded that he was only seventeen. But Daryl grabbed her upper arm and yanked, pushing the group to move forward as he shouted, "C'mon."

June, Michonne, and the rest were in front of the entrance, forming a makeshift path allowing the last of the group to run towards the cars. June was shooting her rifle, her face blank and focused as she shot down the walkers one by one. It seemed as though the walkers from the back of the building found the music uninteresting.

Bella in turn yanked June as they passed. As soon as they ran out of the gate, Bella let go of June and her and Daryl immediately pivoted around to swing the gate shut.

The whole group gasped for breath as they stood in solemn, shocked silence as they stared at the writhing bodies of walkers reaching for them.

* * *

Later that evening, hours after Zach's bodiless funeral, the prison stood still and hollow. There were people residing in its walls, but they hardly spoke, and most people had turned in early for the night. The almost picturesque life they had built for themselves here was once again chipped away by their harsh realities. This was the first death they've had in a while, and it felt like being woken up by ice cold water.

Zach didn't have any parents. He and a few other college students joined the prison only six weeks ago. Still, the prison mourned for his death.

It wasn't like before, when the people they knew were simply just _there._ Nowadays, if you knew somebody, you'd either die for them, kill them, or leave them for dead. There was no in between. The bond everyone had with each other in the prison was vague, yet tangible at the same time.

After finishing her shift at one of the watch towers, Bella saw a dim light from Daryl's cell, which was only two down from her and June's.

She walked in and saw that he was fiddling with his bolts. It's been a sort of ritual for him, she noticed. At the end of the day, he would always check his tips, take inventory, oil his lines, and so on. Without saying a word, she sighed as she sat at the end of his bed. Then, she lied back completely, her legs dangling over the side as she looked up at the bottom of the threadbare top mattress above her.

Daryl hardly reacted. They normally played chess like this at night. Daryl didn't have a cellmate, and often June would have Beth or Carl over at their cell. So, the two would often spend the evenings together if they didn't have anything to do. Leisure time was a gift that grew as the prison did.

But tonight, neither seemed to be in a mood to play.

"Have you told Beth?"

Daryl gave a grunt. "Kid hardly reacted."

Bella sighed, again. Then she turned her head and met his eyes. "I'm sorry. He was a good man."  
Daryl probably didn't know it, but she could see how much Zach admired Daryl. Zach was usually assigned with Daryl, and he's been volunteering more often for runs such as these. During which, he'd saddle up to Daryl, undeterred by his so-called "surliness." It was Daryl who had found him and his friends in the first place.

Although she herself didn't particularly want to play, she figured chess would be a good distraction. Quiet and balanced, chess was something that put structure into their hectic and unpredictable lives.

So, she sat back up and carefully balanced the chessboard on her hand. Their game was left unfinished from the night before, so she tried not to disturb the pieces already propped up.

They played late into the night, and hardly said anything in between. Instead, they felt comfort in each other's company. Around midnight or so, Daryl went to go check on the guards. By the time he came back, Bella had fallen fast asleep on his bed, her knight piece in her hand.

He leaned against his doorway as he considered her sleeping form. A small lamp lit the room with a dim orange glow. Bella was curled on her side, her back against the wall. She had been playing like that with her head propped up by her elbow. But now she laid peacefully, her deep breathing joining the others' in the cell block.

He quietly stood over the lower bed as he moved the chessboard away. He gently took back Bella's knight. He took his thin, grey blanket and put it on top of Bella.

This has happened before whenever Bella in particular had a long day. It would be Daryl's turn, and her eyes would flutter close. Typically, an amused Daryl would see it coming by the way she'd drowsily yawn or by how it took her longer to think about her next move. It would take her less than thirty seconds for her breathing to change. Then, he would know she fell asleep.

Every time, like tonight, he'd simply walk over to June and tell her where her mom is. He'd come back, close the curtain, and turn the light off.

The moon was still peeking through when the orange light extinguished. He gave one last look at Bella's face. He'd never see her so relaxed than now. Even just when she's out there, thinking, she always had a little crease on her forehead or a small, analytic frown. But here, on his bed, he'd see her like this and hear her breathe, and he'd feel something close to contentment.


	36. Infected

A few days later, Daryl shrugged on his token leather vest as he eyed the clock precariously propped against the corner. Bella constantly nagged him to hang it up, but he saw no reason why it should be a priority. A sliver of the morning sun peeked through the curtains and highlighted the number seven. Most of the prison should still be asleep, but Daryl was never the one to wake up late. He had heard someone – probably Rick – also shuffle out earlier.

He'd get breakfast, he supposed. Check out the pantry – maybe find an apple to spare.

 ** _Crack_**

Daryl froze, one hand hovering over his shoulder.

 ** _Crack_**

 ** _Crack_**

Like a horse slapped on his hide, Daryl lunged for his crossbow, heart in his throat. He was out of his cell in a heartbeat, and he rushed passed Bella and June's cell. He could hear frantic movements inside, and he passed several people in various states as they similarly were gathering their weapons and clothes. The gunshots were far off – not here – so Daryl didn't waste time checking on the people here.

He could hear people stumbling after him as he ran out of the cell block. Glancing around he saw it was Sasha, Tyreese, and a few others behind him – all in various states of undress. Wearing pajamas and wielding assorted weapons, they were quite a sight. The metal steps beneath him rattled as he stormed down.

Agitated shouting met his ears, and he saw Rick and Glenn already outside rushing towards cell block D. Rick was like a thunderstorm as he boomed out, "What about C?"

"Clear," shouted back Daryl. "It ain't a breach."

Sasha sped past him wearing bunny pajama pants as she yelled out, "We follow the plan!"

He heard the screams before even entering the cell block. Running in, he barely made sense of the chaos. All he saw were the bodies along the floors, bright red blood making it slick and slippery.

First thing was to grab the gun from Simon. While Simon may have saved a few people with it, Daryl knew that the man wasn't the best to trust with a gun. Also, if they all heard the gunshots all the way from cell block C, walkers must already be trudging there way over.

He shoved the gun in Rick's hands as he sped to the back. "Get in the cells," Daryl bellowed. He grabbed a screaming kid – Max – and shoved him into Karen's arms. "Get in!"

A walker – strange how Daryl automatically doesn't think of it as Brian anymore – lunged towards him, but a familiar white arrow embedded itself in the walker's skull. Daryl didn't need to turn around to know that Bella had also arrived. Instead, he pushed on in, dispatching walkers with his crossbow and shoving people into cells as he went.

He saw Carol grab Lizzie and Mikka and made sure they made it to a cell safely. Briefly scanning around, he saw a flash of Bella's wild dark hair up the stairs. Glenn and Sasha were hitting the stragglers. Rick's voice boomed across. "Check all of 'em - every cell!

Not a minute later, there was noticeably less people on the floor. They were either huddled in the cells or escorted out of the block. "Are we clear down here?" shouted Rick.

Daryl called out, "Clear," the same time he heard Bella's voice from above. "Up here!"

Immediately, Daryl rushed up the stairs, his crossbow in one hand. He tried not to look at the face of a prone body that greeted him. _Josie,_ he thought but quickly shoved it in the back of his mind. He saw Bella at the end where she was assessing the cells. Daryl let out a breath that felt like he had been holding ever since he heard the first gunshot. Taking a deep inhale, he headed down the other end.

But a loud, metallic bang met his ears. He whirled around, crossbow at the ready, as he saw Bella being shoved against the wall by a walker. It was snapping at her inches away from her face and had her pinned down, causing her to be unable to grab any of her weapons. He hardly thought as he shouted, "Get down."

The walker fell gracelessly as Bella slid down. He scanned her quickly for any injuries as he immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She was out of breath and her hair was sticking out all over the place. Wearing only a large t-shirt and combat boots, it was clear she had simply thrown on shoes on her way over. Besides some streaks of dirt on her bare legs and flecks of blood on her face, she appeared otherwise unharmed.  
"Thanks," she wheezed out, unnecessarily.

Rick brushed passed them. The three looked down at the walker Daryl just shot.

Even with blood covering most of his young face, he was instantly recognizable. Daryl sighed as he scanned over the cell block. "Man. It's Patrick. It's all of them."

Bella also glanced over the railing, her expression already stoic. Daryl could see the crease on her forehead. "It's clear down below," she called out. "Someone get Hershel, Dr. S, and anybody else on the med team."

Without further prompting, Bella began heading down the cells, embedding her knife in the bodies' heads with a detachment. Rick and Daryl joined her, the three of them silent.

Soon there were only two cells left. Rick glanced inside one of them before looking back at Daryl with a heaviness that could only mean there was a body in there. Daryl nodded back at Rick, knowing this was something the man needed to do. With a weight on his shoulders, Rick entered the cell.

Daryl bent down as he cocked his crossbow, feeling the heavy resistance in the string as he snapped it in place. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, seeing Bella, her face pale and solemn.

He sighed, but then his eyes strayed toward her arm. Frowning, he put a hand on top of hers, grabbing it as he stood up. Daryl flipped her arm over, revealing flecks of red and purple already blooming all over the inside of her forearm.

She answered his unspoken question, her eyes methodical as they scanned her arm. She spoke quietly. "Didn't have time to grab my arm guard."

Rick then emerged from the cell, his blade glistening red. He flicked it, causing the blood to splatter against the ground garishly.

A loud bang interrupted the heavy silence that filled the cell block.

The three looked behind Rick at the remaining cell, where a walker was snarling and reaching for them futilely through the bars.

Rick killed it automatically. They walked over, revealing Charlie. Bella opened the cell door, looking down at the trails of blood that were streaking down Charlie's face. His cloudy grey eyes clashed against the ruby red.

Hershel and Dr. S joined the three as they analyzed his body.

"No wounds. No bites." Rick glanced up from where he was squatting besides Charlie. "I think he just died."  
"Pleurisy aspiration," answered Dr. S, voice quiet.

"Choked to death on his own blood," explained Hershel at Bella's inquiring look. The two of them were leaning against the cell's door way while the other three were over the body.

"I've seen them on walkers outside the gates," mused Rick.

Daryl added, "They were on Patrick."

"They're from internal lung pressure," explained Dr. S. "Like shaking a soda can and popping the top. Except imagine instead it's your eyes, nose, and throat. This is most likely an aggressive flu strain."

Daryl grimaced. "Hell, Charlie was just eatin' barbeque yesterday. How can somebody die in a day from a cold?"

"I had a pig that died quick," offered Rick. "And I saw a boar in the woods."  
Dr S. sighed as he stood up. "Maybe these two cases are it."

"Disease thrives in small spaces." Daryl looked towards Bella, who was frowning at the body, concern lacing her voice. "These cells are as small as it gets."

Hershel then spoke, voice heavy with meaning. "All of us here – we've all been exposed."

* * *

"This sickness is lethal, and we don't know how this sickness spreads." Hershel looked at all of them, his eyes solemn. "Is there anyone else that we know of who is showing symptoms?"

The council consisted of Hershel, Glenn, Sasha, Carol, Bella, and Daryl. It was established not long after Woodbury joined when it was clear some sort of leadership was necessary, especially after Rick stepped down. Daryl would've never thought he'd be leading a community, but it was almost natural. Before the council was even thought of, he was always up at the front giving orders and input.

It was different – not having Rick call the shots. Before, there was no question about Rick's commands. He said the word, and everybody would do it. But now, the need for quick, on-the-spot demands weren't necessary in the prison. They were now able to just sit and collaborate.

It was different, but it worked.

"We can't just wait," interjected Carol. Carol's position in the council didn't happen immediately. Initially, she just offered advice, but then her capability and natural instincts soon became clear. "There's children. It's not only the illness. When people die, they become a threat."

"We still need a place for them to go. Cell block D is too dangerous right now," responded Bella. She was leaning against the wall, farther away from the group. Daryl tried not to stare. If he was being honest, he's never seen her this bare before. He wasn't being a teenage boy about it. It's just that what kept catching his eye were her tattoos. He's only ever really seen the ones on her arms – the spiraling vines that began at her bicep and curled up to her shoulder and the thin, black bands on her forearm. But now he could see the flowers that were blooming on her thigh.

It was mostly covered by her black t-shirt – the council meeting had started as soon as they left the cell block, so Bella and Sasha were still wearing their respective sleepwear. So, he could only see the ends of the thin, black lines that marked her outer thigh. The lines were so thin that they didn't catch the eye right away. Subtle, yet graceful.

He forced himself to look away.

"Cell block A?" offered Carol.

"I'll help Caleb set it up," sighed Hershel.

Coughing interrupted the conversation. Immediately, everyone tensed as the coughing echoed down the steel halls.  
Without a word, they all stood up and headed out of the makeshift council room.

Daryl saw that Tyreese was gently guiding Karen down the hall towards cell block D. When the whole council came out, Tyreese looked up, surprise evident.

"You alright, Karen?" asked Carol. "You don't sound so good."

"She's alright," shrugged Tyreese, his arm protectively around her. "Just takin' her back to my cell to get some rest. Why?"

The group hesitated. Bella was the one who responded gently, "We think there's a flu going around. That's how Patrick died."

Hershel stepped up when the alarm on the couple's faces became visible. "Don't panic. We're going to figure this out, but we should keep you two separated. Dr. S. can take a look at you, and I'll look at the meds."

Karen had her arms crossed, and she was shifting anxiously. But her voice was steady when she said, "David has also been coughing."  
Sasha, Glenn, and Carol left to set up Cell Block A, taking Karen with them.

"I'll start burying the dead," sighed Bella. She tugged on her hair, twisting a strand around a finger.

"I'll come with you," said Daryl, hoisting his crossbow over his shoulder.

"Wear masks," ordered Hershel. "We don't want you two catching whatever this is."

When it was just the two of them left in the hall, Bella sighed. "I'm gonna go get dressed first."  
Daryl nodded. "Alright. Meet you out there." He scanned her face. She was tapping her arm, as if she was playing the piano. "You good?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Just gotta tell June." She looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his. "Are you alright?"

He shrugged halfheartedly, briefly allowing his exhaustion to seep through. "Gotta be."

* * *

Bella walked slowly back to cell block C, her fingertips trailing the cool, steel walls. This whole thing was fucked, she thought. Everything they fought for and every measure that they took here was to prevent whatever happened today. It seemed as if everything they tried to lock out had found its way in. It had been good – even _great._ The original group had made so much progress. No more constant fear or hunger to greet them every morning. She could wake up knowing June was there, and she could go to sleep that night knowing they'd all be safe.

The fear and hunger had been replaced with joy and peace. But now here they were, with at least a dozen – and maybe more – gone.

When she reached a familiar gate, she gripped the bars as she called out, "June!"

Almost immediately, she heard light footsteps from cell block C. Bella stood at the doorway that led to the common space, which in turn led to the cell block. When she saw June appear at the other gate she immediately ordered, "June, stop. Don't come here."

The younger girl looked at her perplexed, the relief that was on her face slowly morphing into worry. June warily stepped forward, her hand also gripping a bar. Concern tinged her voice "How come? Are you alright?"

"I'm alright," she promised. She squinted at her daughter from all the way across the room. June had let her curls loose today. "We think that a flu is going around. Everyone who's been in Cell Block D has been exposed, and we need to separate those who have."

"Oh." June was quiet for a moment. "When can y'all come back?"

Her directness and lack of visible concern amused Bella. She always assumes June will be frantic or worried. And while she may be, June has a control over her emotion that shows her growing maturity. She used to beg Bella not to leave her – at the water tower, at the farm, and even before when Bella had to leave her with a babysitter to head to her late-night shift. But now, June takes it in stride with a bravery that makes Bella proud. And a little bit sad.

"Not sure," replied Bella. "Whenever this blows over – soon, hopefully. If this gets worse, we might need to go on a run for any meds we can find." That meant their situation would be precarious – something Bella knew June was well aware of. Bella tended to be honest about the council's day-to-day concerns. One of which was the fact that they had already scavenged every nearby pharmacy.

What should've been a ten-minute conversation – a quick update and clothing retrieval – ended up lasting for the better of an hour. They both had ended up sitting down, separated by gated doors and a huge room. The conversation moved onto preparations for the quarantine, to Carl and Judith, to how June's newest hobby – painting – was going.

It comforted Bella to just simply talk to her, even if they could barely see one another.

She leaned her head against the cool, steel rod during a lull in the conversation. June had recently placed some clothes in the middle of the room, which Bella in turn had grabbed. She had the clothes in her lap, and she knew she had to leave soon.

June sensed that. She interrupted the silence, as she hesitatingly said, "Don't get sick on me, okay?"

"I'll be fine," Bella promised. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

Bella really did mean that promise. She meant it when she fell asleep restlessly that night. She still meant it when she woke up the next day with a tender ache in her temple – stress, most likely, she thought. She meant it when that small ache spread to the rest of the body until she felt her muscles groan with discomfort with every movement.

But when the council reconvened at noon, that ache laid way to a new and telltale symptom that she couldn't ignore – a small, slowly growing tickle in her throat.

It was small, something that she could swallow down for now. But as she heard Hershel and Daryl plan the day's run to a veterinary college over fifty miles away, she knew she couldn't ignore it. Her denial would be deadly to them.

 _Within a day_ , she remembered.

By the end of the meeting, where Daryl and Michonne agreed to lead the run, the pain in her head had evolved into dizziness. The lights streaming through the windows were a bit too bright, and everything moved a bit too slow.

As the group trickled out at the end of the meeting, she slowed to a stop in the hallway as the whole world slanted.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she propped herself up against the wall with one arm.

But of course, Daryl had stuck around to wait for her. She hadn't said anything for most of the meeting, so he probably assumed she would be going with him and Michonne.

"Bella?" The alarm in his voice was palpable. "Hey, look at me."  
She saw him reach for her. Bella flinched, as if he was the one that caught a lethal infection. "Don't touch," she admonished.

He hesitated, his hand lowered but still slightly outreached. Still, he didn't move back even though it was clear what was ailing her.

As if to make it more explicit, the cough that she had been holding back burst out of her. And man, did it hurt like a bitch. It was as if her lungs were made of sandpaper, and with every cough or breath, she could feel them grating against each other.

The racking that was coursing through her and her lightheadedness brought her to her knees. As if tied together, Daryl moved down also, till she was sitting with her head between her knees and he was squatting a yard away from her.

"Go away," she muttered as they pain faded once more into a full ache. She turned her head, so that it still rested on her knees, but she was now able to see him. His head was cocked as he analyzed her, his hand brought up to his mouth as he anxiously rubbed his jaw.

"Let me get you to Doc," he insisted, already leaning forward.

She snorted lightly, gracing him with a weak smile. She could see his concern, and although it was well-intended, it was not what either of them needed. "Piss off."

He grimaced, and she interrupted him before he could protest. "I can get there myself. _You_ still have a more important job to do."

The light was shining in, causing everything to be hues of yellows and oranges. It was a calming effect, but it did little to comfort Daryl. "Y'take care of yourself. I'll be back soon, alright?"

Bella pushed herself up, grateful that her sudden vertigo had temporarily been abated. But her body still ached like hell.

She looked towards Daryl, who had stood up beside her. She smiled up at him, the corners of her mouth lifting up subtly. It was strange. She didn't feel worried or remotely stressed about this. Because Daryl will be back, and everything will be okay.

He clearly didn't share her faith. The way he was frowning, and how his fist was clenched beside him, as if he wanted to physically fight off her symptoms. It didn't worry her – quite the opposite, in fact.

"I'll be fine," she promised, once again.

* * *

Daryl couldn't will Bella to be okay. He couldn't make her symptoms magically disappear. But he could do something about it. Channeling his worry into something more productive, he focused on the job.

The drive to the college gave him time to calm down. He was supposed to lead this thing, so he will. He wasn't going to let his doubts and worries get the better of him – not with Bella and the others' lives on the line.

Still, his hand was still gripping the wheel a bit too hard, and he may have been driving a bit too fast.

But a scratchy, static noise suddenly filled up the beat-up car. He and Michonne shared a startled glance.

" _K-Keep…. Alive."_

Bob, who sat in the back, leaned forward. His shock was audible as he exclaimed, "Is that somebody?"

 _"Keep Alive….. T- … -inus."_

Daryl didn't bother with a response. Instead, with his free hand, he toggled with the radio's knob as he tried to gain a clearer signal.

" _Terminus."_

The car suddenly jolted as it ran headlong into an equally unsuspecting walker. It flew off toward the side, revealing more walkers lumbering around the road.

Daryl swore as he jerked the steering wheel to the left. "Hold on," he shouted as he straightened the wheel back, narrowly avoiding completely flying off the road.

Not that the road was any better. A small herd completely blocked off the route, and he barely managed to stomp on the brakes in time. He immediately put the car in reverse, but the dreaded noise of a car stuck on a pile of flesh and bodies met their ears. It wasn't long before the thuds of walkers hitting the side of the car joined.

"We have to go," ordered Michonne, as she kicked the passenger door open with her katana already halfway out.

Bob and Daryl didn't protest. Daryl lunged for his crossbow on the passenger floor while he heard the sharp twang of Michonne's blade and the loud pops of Bob's gun.

He shoved against the car's sunroof, popping it off as he immediately stood up, a bolt hitting its mark on a walker that was closing in on Michonne. He hopped over the car's roof, feel000ing the hot metal underneath his hand. Heart pumping and skin tingling, he chucked his knife at a walker that reached too close for his liking. Sliding down onto the car's hood, he yanked his knife out of its skull while kicking another one away.

He quickly fought his way through, every motion violent and brutal. He didn't hold back when he rammed his crossbow or stabbed his knife into a walker's skull. He didn't hesitate, and he survived.000

Within a minute, he had made his way to the edge of the forest till he was beside Michonne. The walkers were now more focused on Tyreese and Bob, who were still fighting their way over.

With Michonne and Daryl's help, Bob managed to fight his way through the hoard. But the three could only watch as Tyreese fought like a madman against the rest of the walkers.

It was as if Tyreese was goading for them to come, the way he shouted and pummeled them down like a madman and how he wasn't pushing his way forward towards the rest of them. "Go," he roared, "Go."

It was Daryl who pushed the other two into the forest. Their mission went beyond the four of them. He thought about the Bella and the prison waiting – _relying_ – on them bringing back the medicine. The thought of them not surviving because of him made him feel like he was suffocating.

So, he left Tyreese behind, honestly believing that he wouldn't see him again.

It was a relief to be proved wrong when Tyreese stumbled through the treeline after them, covered in guts but alive.

* * *

Bella rested her head on the railing, taking small comfort in the cool metal pressing against her hot skin. Her eyelids fluttered closed, emphasizing every cough and moan that echoed throughout death row. She could hear Hershel's 0steady cadence from down below as he assisted another patient. That brave, reckless man was truly something to behold.

Shuffling, tired steps interrupted her thoughts, followed by the sound of someone heavily sitting down beside her. Her head rocked to the side, still on the rail as she looked back at an equally shitty-looking Glenn.

She simply just raised her eyebrows, not bothering going through the effort of saying anything. He understood and just gave a weak, one-armed shrug that reminded her a bit of someone else.

After a bit, she asked, "How's Hershel holding up?"

Glenn snorted. His face had a sheen of sweat. "He's gonna outlive us all."

Gallows humor did not suit Glenn one bit. Glenn continued hesitatingly, saying what Bella was thinking of just before he came, "They were supposed to be back tonight."

Bella bit her lip. It was midnight, and the darkness laid heavy over the block. It reminded her of those old films that took place during a time when the world ran on coal. Suffocating and blinding.

Bella felt like she could practically feel - smell – the sickness. She supposed she was thankful for the cold that radiated from the metal walls. She couldn't help but think that the cold was somehow preventing the disease from festering. It numbed her.  
"They'll be back," assured Bella. "Nothing will stop them." Nothing would stop Daryl.  
"I don't doubt they will," spoke Glenn after a coughing fit, which sounded both dry and wet. "But I don't know if we'll be strong enough to be here for them."

The frustration in Daryl slowly grew with every hour. It was like an itch in his chest that needed release. From the moment the group realized they didn't have a car, when they realized that they would have to stop for the night – a whole fucking night, and when they realized that before they could do anything, they first had to find a goddamn car.  
Through this, he hardly acted on his mounting anger. His self-control has grown remarkably these past few months alone. Ever since people started relying on him to bring them back home safe and alive, it became less about him. It didn't matter whatever the hell he thought as long as he got the people home. Instead of fussing about it, he directed all his focus on the problem at hand. Currently, that was trekking to the nearest town in hopes of finding a car. But what nearly set him over the edge was Tyreese's heated and blunt declaration.  
"We lost a night," he had grunted. "Glenn, Bella – everyone who got sick are long gone."  
Daryl's fist had clenched, and Michonne glanced at him warily. The two had walked on up ahead towards the town when Tyreese spoke. He inhaled deeply, refusing to glance back at the man who had recently lost so much.  
So, he kept walking without a backward glance. Instead, his eye caught a flash of color along the ground.  
Squatting down, he grabbed the object – no bigger than his thumb – and held it up to the sun. A light, pale blue with a jade-green tinge, the stone seemed to be glowing from the sun's rays.  
"Is that jasper?" Asked Michonne, a small smile appearing.  
He grunted in confirmation as he stood up while running away some of the dirt off of its surface.  
"It brings out your eyes," she teased. "Bella will love it."  
Daryl didn't glance at her, confirming the stone's meaning. Bella's small rock collection was hardly a secret now, and Michonne was more than observant enough. Instead of replying, he simply gave her a reproachful look as he pocketed the stone.  
She simply smiled cheekily. Her shoulders back and head up high, her posture matched the confidence in her voice. "We'll get back and treat them. Bella and Glenn are strong. They'll be there."  
A flash of irritation broke through. "I know," he scoffed. Michonne grinned wider. "But not if we just standin' and chattin' all day."

* * *

Bella wondered if this cell block was meant to be one of the patients' last punishments on this Earth. It didn't have windows, and she honestly couldn't even tell whether it was day or night. It has been getting harder and harder for her to focus, and time has been escaping her notice. Every minute felt like an hour, but every hour was getting harder to remember.

While Glenn's breathing had become more and more strained and forced – causing Hershel and her to keep a cautious eye on the man – Bella's head felt like a balloon. Like air was being pumped in and sucked out. Sometimes it felt like someone was squeezing hard and trying to get it to pop. The room would spin, and lights would flash across the dark room. She'd do the breathing exercises Hershel taught her and wait for the vertigo spell to end.  
This was worse than the concussion, she sulked.  
She glanced up pathetically at Hershel when he squatted beside her. He pressed a cold pack to her head, as he tutted, "Why won't you rest on the bed instead of the floor? We can give you some blankets to rest for an hour or so. No need to exert yourself."  
How could she say she didn't want to because she was paranoid that if she went into one of those cells, she'd never come out?  
Instead, she lightly snorted. "You're one to talk. I haven't seen you get a wink of sleep since you've been here, Hershel." She pushed the cold pack towards him. "Take a nap at least," she insisted. "Everyone's stable for the most part right now, and I can do quick rounds."  
He chuckled as he sat down beside her. His eyes were drawn, and his movement were still, but his smile was still there. "Your daughter came up not an hour ago saying the same thing." Seeing Bella's eyes widen at the mention of June, he assured, "I told her you were getting some rest. I think Carl was the one who told her in the first place."  
She scowled. No doubt Rick had been the one to tell Carl in the first place. When Bella first started showing symptoms, she figured it would be okay. No need to worry June, so she decided not to tell her. Let June think she was off with Daryl on the run rather than wallowing away in death row.  
Now that June knows, part of Bella wanted to go see her. She wanted to talk to her just a little bit, knowing it would instantly make her feel better. But it would alarm June, seeing Bella like this.

"This is a real shitshow," muttered Bella, her voice drawling out tiredly. She glanced up at Hershel, a crease between her eyes. "I don't know how long we can go on. I don't know how long _you_ can go on."

It may have been insulting to say that, but it stemmed from concern and hey, sue her – her filter is gone.

But Hershel wasn't swayed. In fact, he chuckled before saying, "I'm at the prime of my life, Bella. Never felt better."  
She smiled, but that quickly transformed into a flinch. Hershel picked up on her grimace and asked, "Getting worse?"

Bella rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, managing out, "It's getting harder to focus." Her voice trailed off a bit before continuing, "Seeing flashes of light and so on."

Hershel considered her, taking care not to react outwardly. "Make sure you're drinking. Dehydration won't help you. And please lie down. Your head seems to be more susceptible to this infection rather than your lungs – maybe from your past concussion. Let me know if you begin to see things – hallucination or disorientation."

Too late, she thought. But she just nodded, too tired to say anything else.

* * *

It took them a day to get to this damn veterinary college, but less than an hour to get the meds. Daryl squinted at the last shelf of meds, narrowed eyes quickly scanning the white labels. He was on the edge of his feet. Ready to head back to the prison, he forced himself to read every bottle. This would be all for shit if they didn't bring back something vital for the patients' health all because of carelessness.

Satisfied with his findings, he strode back into the other room where the rest were searching. Hershel was right to assume people wouldn't come here for meds. Most of the shelves were untouched, and the black lab tables were clear and coated with a fine layer of dust. But this place was a college, which meant a lot of people must've been here during the turn. Which meant a whole lot of walkers that they haven't found yet.

"Got everythin'?" he asked.

"Everything," confirmed Tyreese. "Meds, clamps, tubes, and everything else."  
"Right. Let's get on outta here, then."

The group left the lab into the dark, empty halls. They did their best to move quiet and carefully. The soft clinks of glass and plastic jangling in their bags echoed down the halls. They were very attentive on preventing any of the instruments they've scavenged from breaking.

He led the group using his flashlight to guide the way. But they approached a door that was hanging precariously on its hinges. He vaguely heard shuffling. Putting his hand up, signaling the rest to freeze. Daryl shined his light through the door's window, revealing a makeshift camp with about a dozen walkers inside.

At his beckoning, the group immediately sped forward past the door, doing their best to keep quiet at hopes of not catching any other bystanders' attentions. Still, the bottles and glass clinked. It made him anxious and well aware of the fragility of their findings.

But not as anxious as the groanings and snarlings that had begun to echo down the hall behind them.

"Did you see them," called out Bob, as their hopes of leaving the college quietly flew out of the window. "They sick as well. Gettin' their blood on us, breathin' them in – they can get us sick."

"We don't fight 'em," shouted Daryl as he turned a corner. "Keep an eye for a way out. Need to get downstairs."

But every stairwell or double doors they passed seemed to be filled to the brim. Most of them were chained off by whoever lived here before, but some managed to stumble out, joining the growing herd behind them.

Daryl ran hard, hearing the others close behind him. But soon they reached the end of the hall. Michonne jangled the door leading to the stairwell, but the sounds of several walkers throwing themselves at the locked door met their ears.

"There's no way out," shouted Bob as the walkers' groans became deafening the more they closed in.

Daryl looked around wildly, his crossbow clenched in his hand. His eyes fell on a narrow window above them. "Then we make one."

He jumped up on top of the window sill as he scanned its edges for any means of opening it.

Hearing Tyreese roar, "Get down," he didn't think twice about it.

Glass shattered beside him as Tyreese chucked a fire extinguisher through the window. Yanking Michonne up, he scanned outside, relieved to see that the walkway below them had a roof. "Jump down to the walkway," he ordered.

After Michonne, he jumped ahead. Bob was the last to make it over. But the man fell hard on his side, causing his bag to precariously hang over to the hungry walkers that were grabbing up at them. Bob was fighting hard to hold on to it, yanking on his bag's straps desperately. The way the walkers were yanking, it looked as if Bob was about to go over with it.  
"Just let it go, man," ordered Daryl, as he stepped forward – hands outstretched to yank Bob from over the side.

But with admirable strength, Bob managed to yank his pack over to the walkway's roof, where it clattered to the ground just in front of Daryl with a heavy clang.

A glint in the light emitting from Bob's pack caught Daryl's eyes. He squinted at it, frown deepening as he made out the slender shape of a bottle.

Not believing his eyes – because it had to be some kind of chemical or medicine that they needed – he squatted down and wrapped his hand around the bottle's neck. It was cool to the touch, and the liquor label glared obscenely bright in its red letters.

The calm that settled on Daryl was frightening. The walkers' cacophonous snarls seemed to have faded away as all of the frustration he had stifled away for the sake of the mission coalesced into something more extreme. With the rage he felt towards the man in front of him, Daryl managed to contain some semblance of control.

Looking up at Bob, who had the audacity to look back at him with shame in his eyes, Daryl spoke, voice unnervingly low. "You should've kept walkin' that day."

He still felt the instinctual tick in his hand and the heat in his blood that made him want to lunge forward and hit the man. His breathing became louder as nobody dared say a word. Not a year ago, he would've beaten Bob for this. His lack of control he had back in the day – hell, back in Hershel's farm – lingered in his mind, begging to be released.

But, Daryl didn't just jump instinctively into anything anymore – not when every choice he made had an impact on someone other than him. In this case – like most cases – it was the green-eyed woman who needed the medicine in his pack to live.

Instead of chucking the bottle at the man himself, he turned abruptly, swinging his arm back as he prepared to launch it over the side.

" _Wait."_

Now, Daryl was already pissed that Bob had prevented him from unleashing his rage in the only way that he can. But the fact that Bob had the fucking audacity to put his hand on the _gun that Daryl gave him_ for his shitty liquor is what really set him off.

Michonne and Tyreese watched in wary silence as Daryl stormed up to Bob, putting his face just inches away from Bob's. He glared at the man, body as taut as a bow's string as if he was only seconds away from pouncing on Bob.

He breathed out harshly, daring Bob to raise that gun at him – daring him to get a further rise out of Daryl. But Bob just looked down, the shame on his face visible to everyone.

It irritated Daryl further, but brought him down a level. He wasn't going to fight this man, weak as he is.

Instead, he shoved the bottle into Bob's chest, as he growled out, "If you take a single sip before anyone gets these meds, I will pummel you to the ground."

Daryl gave him one last look of disgust before striding past Michonne and Tyreese without another word.

The group – silent with a new heaviness – made their way back with Daryl in the lead. He refused to glance or address Bob, and instead spoke shortly and abruptly to the others when giving out orders.

He yanked the passenger door open of the shitty van and threw himself down into the seat. Eyes straight ahead as he heard the low voices of the other three who were trying to find the quickest and safest way back.

"That herd we ran into takes out the best route," muttered Michonne, a hand on her katana's hilt. "The other options will take at least double the time."  
He attempted to drown them out as his frustration – which still hadn't had its time to be released – began to grow. He glared at the little clock on the car's dashboard.

Eighteen hours. At least twelve fucking hours longer than this shitshow of a run should've taken. Patrick had died in less than a day, so every hour now is critical.

Michonne's voice drifted towards Daryl. "Going down here will be at least seven hours."

Pulling out the small, pale green-blue stone from his vest's pocket, he rubbed his thumb against the smooth surface, watching the specks of dirt slowly give way. In the sunlight streaming in, the stone appeared opaque, as if it was softly glowing. The cleaner it got, the brighter it shined. He closed his eyes, settling his head back against the headrest as he felt his heartrate slow down. He felt the stone in his hand slowly warm up as his mind slowly wandered.

Inevitably, he saw Bella in his head from when he last saw her. Pale and dizzy, yet calm and sure. He remembered how she smiled at him. A soft, closed smile but with an upturned corner that comes across as almost teasing – the same way she does every night, right before when they'll see each other again in the morning.

He heard Michonne enter the car, followed by a dull thud of the door closing. It was quiet before she said, "We'll get there in time."

Daryl grunted in response but didn't open his eyes, refusing to let the image fade.

* * *

Bella briefly stumbled up the stairs, using both hands on the rails to guide her up. Every step felt jarring and caused the whole world to tremble. Her muscles protested angrily, refusing to give way and making every movement look stiff and uncomfortable – not unlike the walkers. A constant grimace on her face, her eyes were barely open as she put all of her energy and focus into getting up these goddamn stairs.

What really crept up on her was the constant moaning that echoed around these steel walls. The patients of cell block A could hardly hold back their only way of relieving their pain. Their pitiful yet grating cries of pain made Bella cringe. As selfish as it was, she wished she had her music player to block them out.

She wished for many things, now that she's thinking about it. Full of self-pity, she thought about being able to move without groaning, to look at the window without her head feeling like it's going to explode, and to be able to breathe in fresh, clean air.

Bella found Glenn at the same spot where they met last time. For the past couple of hours, they've been helping Hershel tend to the patients and taking breaks in between. But the breaks have become more frequent and longer. It's been a while since she'd seen Glenn, so Hershel sent her to find him and rest.

She slumped next to him on the cold floor, her back against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. The dry, stale air felt like it was grating down her throat. Other than that, her lungs didn't feel that bad. It was only her head that made her feel like it was about to break open.

Glenn, however, was hacking into his arm, and the harsh, gravelly sound made her wince. He breathed in loudly as he desperately tried to gain back the air he had lost in his coughing fit. His skin was ashen and had a sheen of sweat, despite the fact that he was shivering violently.

Looking at him, Bella began to feel fear creeping up her throat. Her friend was dying.

She put a hand on his back, feeling helpless and exhausted as the wracking in his body slowly softened into trembles.

Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder, and the two sat beside one another as one moan suddenly fell silent.

* * *

June paced up and down the dark hall, her light steps echoing until she couldn't tell if they were her steps or someone else's. This further added to the prickles on her neck, but she couldn't force herself to stop moving. One hand pulled on a curl, letting it go so it bounced back like a spring. The other hand rested on the hilt of her gun. Embedded with the smooth ivory of pearl, her gun was a birthday gift from her mother. She and Daryl had found it in a pawn shop a few months back.

Her and Carl agreed they'd take turns taking watch. The whole group were spread out thin at different blocks, so they figured they'd need someone to be alert in case something goes wrong. Maggie was out with Rick trying to handle the growing herds that were currently trying – and almost succeeding – to knock down the fences to have them for dinner. Just another life-threatening thing to be worried about.

She gave a small scream as she abruptly kicked a chunk of debris that littered the floor. This is absolute shit. As much as Bella unrightfully tried to keep June in the dark, June isn't dumb. Charlie died within a day from a cold, and it has been at least twenty hours since Bella has been sick. Wait, no. It's been at least twenty hours since June found out from Hershel. Bella could've been long sick before then – she just chose not to tell her.

This whole thing is bullshit, thought June sourly. Just being in this cold, dank hall was dampening her moods.

She missed being back at their cell block. It was surprising how it snuck up as home to all of them. With Lori and T-Dog dying, and Bella _almost_ dying in those initial weeks, the prison was definitely unfavorable in June's eyes. But the longer they stayed, and the more memories and people grew, the cold, grey walls became plastered in photos or paint. The freezing floor became covered with fuzzy rugs and carpets. The stale, empty atmosphere became filled with sun and movement.

June could vaguely hear the sound of Judith's wails. It only aggravated her more, causing her to continue pacing. She reached up to twist a curl.

 ** _Crack_**

Her hand froze. "Carl," she shouted.

 ** _Crack_**

The younger boy slid across the floor to a stop as she ordered, "Stay here! Watch the halls – it's coming from A!"

June bolted forward without waiting for a response, gun already out. It was in the middle of the night, making the halls almost pitch black. But she knew this place like the back of her hand and turned corners instinctively and without pause. The bangs steadily grew louder and louder as she ran closer to the source.

She felt the echoes ricochet through her bones. Her heart was beating just as hard, but she didn't even hesitate when she reached the Cell Block door. She reached for its handle and yanked hard, but no matter how hard she tugged it wouldn't give way.

Meanwhile, she began to hear the screams.

She swore profusely, feeling tears of frustration beginning to prick her eyes. Scanning around desperately, she reached for an axe that was longer than her own forearm. But even that couldn't bring down the steel door.

"June!"

She turned around and saw Maggie sprinting towards her. "I can't get the door open!"

Maggie slowed down, her eyes just as wild as June's. Out of breath, Maggie gestured, "C'mon."

June followed Maggie as they ran to the visitor's room – it had a long plane of glass in the middle that allowed the past prisoners to see their visitors. It was where June had come earlier to talk to Hershel.

"You shouldn't be here," gasped out Maggie. "You could get sick."  
" _You're_ here." And that was the end of that.

They skittered into the room as they paused to scan around for anything they could use.

"Watch out," managed June as she raised her gun up towards Maggie. Maggie's eyes widened before she jumped out of the way. Hand steady, she pulled the trigger.

The glass shattered, and the two girls hopped over. The smell of sweat and disease grew stronger as they rushed in. June's never been to this side before, but the screams and gunshots were easy to follow.

Immediately, their eyes were drawn to Hershel, who appeared to have been suspended on a net with a walker.  
"No," bellowed Hershel when he saw them raise their guns. He was pushing against the snarling walker with his arms. Its mouth was blocked off with what appeared to be a clear balloon attached to its face. "You could hit the pump – we need it for Glenn!"

"Go," ordered Maggie. Her hand was steady as she aimed. "Find the others."  
June didn't hesitate. First running throughout the lower floor, she checked every cell as she called out, "Everyone alright?"

If there was a scream, she went running. She'd dispatch whoever or whatever had turned and made sure every person went to their cells safe. Her aim was always true, and her fear never showed, just like her mother.

Speaking of who, was currently not visible. If shit went down, her mother was always first to jump into things. For once, not seeing Bella in the thick of things stressed June out. When the first floor became clear, she ignored the still bodies on the floor as she called out, "Mom?"

Maggie rushed passed her, managing out, "Glenn needs me."

Knowing that Glenn, who had gone into the cell block after Bella, was not doing so hot, June became more anxious. She ran up the steps after Maggie, as she looked wildly around. Hershel was over Glenn, already shoving the pump's tube down Glenn's throat – something that June never wanted to see again.

"Where's my mom?" June knew Glenn's life was on the line, but – Christ – she had to know.

Hershel began to press on the pump rhythmically, and wonderfully, Glenn began to breathe. Once Glenn was in the clear, Hershel looked around anxiously. His eyes were sunken in and flecks of old blood dotted his face. "She went to lie down half an hour ago. Check down these cells up here."  
She didn't bother with a response. She headed towards where Hershel nodded.

June found Bella lying on one the lower cot in a cell. She panicked, afraid that she wasn't moving – wasn't breathing. June ran to her side and saw her chest rising.

Bella stirred when June grabbed her arm. A flash of green glinted as her eyes fluttered open briefly before shutting closed, as if drifting off into a nap. Her words came out slurred and breathless. "June?" Her voice trailed off before picking up again. "What's that noise? We have – have to go to school."

Her eyes opened again – wider this time. "Angel. The angel, honey."

June was so relieved, she hardly processed Bella's words. "Mom? Are you okay?"

"We have to go to school," Bella repeated, more insistent this time. June was still reeling over her words from before. Her head rolled over to her shoulder. "Your science fair project. We have to bring it."

The angel – June had no idea what that was about. But the bewilderment faded when June realized what science fair she was talking about.

At the ripe age of eight, June had spent an unholy amount of time trying to build the best ping-pong launcher. Hilariously insignificant now, it was the most important project eight-year-old June had ever done. The day of the fair, June had burst into tears when the launcher completely fell apart. They didn't have enough time to fix it, and if they attempted to, they would have been terribly late.

June had run back to her room and planned on lying there forever to mope, but Bella had insisted to still go to the science fair. Bella more or less forced her really, since June was very adamantly against going. Bella had scrambled up the pieces of June's project and all of the papers and doodled diagrams that June had made, plastered them on the back of a piece of cardboard that came from one of the boxes from her bar shift, and made a decent poster presenting all of the thought and process that went into making that crappy structure made of woods taped together.

Bella marched up to the elementary school with a miserable June in tow and proudly placed it on the table where the other equally-as-crappy launchers were. At the end of the night, June had only gotten a participatory ribbon and a clear sense of not wanting to be a scientist when she grew up.

But it was also the first time since she had lived with Bella that she had laughed. The whole time at the fair, Bella and June had sat eating cheap soft-serve ice cream. June wasn't saying much, but Bella proceeded to bash on every launcher. She insulted each one over silly things, like that one has too much wood, or that one looks too proud ("Wood can't look too proud," June would argue). Probably not the best parenting technique, but Bella was not just some parent. And it worked.

June hadn't thought about it in a while. But the older she got, the more she realized how frazzled Bella must've been. Her adopted child - who was still getting used to Bella and the loss of her birth mom - spent all of her energy and focus on some stupid project, only for it to completely fall apart. Bella would've only been twenty-two at the time and had to stress over her kid's science project instead of college or dating.

June blinked back tears. She wanted to respond, but Bella had drifted back off into unconsciousness. Her skin was ghastly pale and cold to touch, but a thin layer of sweat beaded her forehead. Her breathing was uneven, and when June checked her wrist, Bella's pulse was fluttering erratically.

It would be another hour before Daryl and Bob would come running through the cell block. Within that hour, Bella slowly became more unintelligible, muttering about an angel and the like until June couldn't even understand what she was saying. Her body would stiffen randomly, almost as if she was seizing. Every time that happened, June would burst into tears once more. It would be an hour before they'd find June curled up besides Bella, who was still alive but unresponsive.

Daryl had rushed in, blue eyes wild as he scanned the two on the cot. He had streaks of dirt across his arms and face, and he still had his crossbow sling around his back. Breathing heavily, he didn't saying anything as he got down on one knee to bend over Bella. He reached out hesitatingly, as if scared to touch her before resting his fingers against her neck.  
She was so cold, but he felt her fluttering pulse is underneath his fingertips.  
"The medicine?"  
Daryl's spoke low and gritty, just like how he does when he's out there and it's up to him to lead them. "With Glenn. He'll be comin' in a bit." He pressed his palm against Bella's forehead. He could see her eyes flickering beneath her eyelids. "What's wrong with her?"  
June's voice grew steadier the more she talked. "She's been seeing things – hallucinating, I think. She kept saying things, but she hasn't woken up in a while."  
"Her breathin'?"  
"It's uneven, but not as bad as Glenn's."

There was nothing to say after that. They sat by her side as Bob and Hershel tended to her. Daryl would come in and out as he still had council duties to attend to especially after losing almost half of their people.

When Bella first woke up the next day, he was passed out on the chair besides her. And she saw a small, oval jasper on the little table next to her, and the wings on his vest – just like that of an angel's.


	37. Yellow

June pressed the tip of her brush against the smooth, slate-grey wall. The bright yellow pigment of the paint was striking against the dull metal. As she moved her hand, the yellow spread in streaks, completing one of many sunflowers on her and Bella's cell wall.

She leaned back on her ankles, chin angling up as her eyes took in her artwork. Hues of yellow, greens, and blues swirled about most of the space. The colors stretched almost to the top so that it felt like she was looking through a window. Reminiscent of Van Goph, the sunflower field brought color and life into the small cell she and Bella had been calling home.

June had spent the past two months working on this whenever she had the time. Often it wouldn't be until night when she'd finally be able to sit down and focus. It was cathartic for her to create in a time of ruins – probably the same reason why Bella had lugged a piano to the cell block.

Speaking of who, June hadn't seen Bella for a few hours. It had been six days since the infection had been contained, and slowly, everyone had begun to go back into the swing of things. Not that they'd all managed to move on from losing half of their people, but life and walkers moved on, making it easier for all of them.

She stood up and took in the finished painting, her smile growing. Plopping her brush down into the tin can of murky water, she gave out a little squeal.

Carl suddenly popped his head in curiously through the curtains. June couldn't even flick him off for doing that _again._ The amount of times he almost walked in on them while they were changing was insane. But right now, she was just too damn happy.

The younger boy let out a low whistle as he scanned the field of sunflowers. "Lookin' good."

June beamed at him. "Have you seen Bella? I'm gonna show her."

He snorted. "Last I saw her, Daryl was making googly eyes at her out in the field."

She rolled her eyes. "Sounds about right." No way in hell Carl would say that in front of Daryl though. As much as Carl admires and trusts Daryl, he wasn't dumb enough to do such a thing.

She grabbed the basket of paint she had ransacked. June will return it to the library – where the kids often spend their time - after seeing Bella.

"Where are you heading?" asked June as the two teens left the cell and started down the stairs. They waved to Beth who had Judith in her arms as they passed by.

"Helpin' dad with the farm," shrugged Carl.

June glanced at him curiously. Carl had been _different_ – and understandably so – since his mom's death. And she overheard Bella and Daryl talking about him killing a teenager during the Governor's attack. Bella was worried about the direction he was heading

Strangely enough, June wasn't bothered by hearing it. She knew she should, but she wasn't. Not that she supported his actions, but she could understand it.

Killing wasn't always bad, June decided. Maybe before the outbreak it was, but now it was different. Now, it's about surviving and protecting. But neither is killing the only solution.

But then again, June never had to kill before.

June could see how Carl was slowly recovering. They've grown as friends, even though June still rubs it in his face that she's a solid year older than him. He smiled more often, and his dad had a lot to do with it. Before, when her mom and Carl's dad went running off into who knows where, it would often just be Carl and June left alone. Rick wasn't known for subtlety – he was always in the thick of things. June could see what it did to Carl. It made him need to grow up fast, and who else would he try to emulate if not his own dad?

It made him colder and more distant. But now, Rick was showing him a different way.

It made June wonder what she takes from Bella.

Every leader at the prison had their own way of doing things. Sasha and Carol were more pragmatic. They saw things as it was and won't take any chances. Glenn was the keen, quiet voice of reason. Hershel was the moral compass. Rick certainly kept everyone on their toes, but he had no hesitation and made the hard calls.

Bella was the kind of leader to step back and listen. June would always see her watching – observing. She likes to know all of her options before deciding anything. And when she makes her call, she's firm about it. She was the kind of leader that would prefer to handle things herself rather than have others in the line of fire.

Daryl was harder to place. But that definitely did not mean he wasn't meant to be a leader. No one particularly expected it, but when it happened, it clicked as if this is what the prison needed. Nobody wanted to step up after Rick relinquished his responsibilities, but Daryl was the first to do so.

"Soon we'd be able to stop going out on runs for food," continued Carl.

June hummed, her basket swinging at her side. The two squinted as they walked outside. It was almost noon – the sun was glaring down at them. The grass was crisp green – just like on her wall – and the sky was a lovely shade of blue. When she painted her landscape, she drew inspiration from the hills before her now. The landscape was similar, just covered with sunflowers.

She spotted Daryl and Bella sitting on the grass, talking animatedly with one another. She started towards them as she waved at Carl. She called out as they parted ways, "Dinner later?"

He gave a thumbs up. "See you then!"

June relished underneath the warmth of the Georgian sun. It was still spring – barely – so that they didn't all feel like they were baking. The wind billowed throughout the grounds, providing the perfect amount of cool air to counteract the sun's warmth.

She could see Bella sitting upright, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on her knees. Her hair was loose and would pick up every time the wind went by. Underneath the bright sun, her hair would shift from black to brown to even gold.

Daryl was lying down on his side beside her. His elbow propped him up, and one knee was bent up. He looked casual, and June could see a half-smile on his lips. It was a teasing smile, further confirmed by how Bella rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder at whatever he said, causing him to roll onto his back.

June caught Bella's eyes, and her mother waved at her, grinning. "What's up, kid?" She called out.

In response, June simply raised her basket of paint, a triumphant grin on her face. Bella's eyes widened in realization, startling in the sea of green grass around her. She gasped dramatically, her head lifting up from her knees. "All done?"

June reached the two as she beamed. "All done."

Daryl had made himself comfortable after being shoved onto the ground. Now on his back with arms crossed behind his head, he squinted against the sun at the teen. "Ain't you supposed to be helpin' Carol with the kids?"

June raised an eyebrow at him as she sat down beside Bella. "Don't you have someone to stare down or glower at?"

He nodded up at Bella, who was looking down at him with faint amusement. "Why else do y'think I'm here?"

June only planned on stopping by, but – unsurprisingly – her and Bella ended up getting trapped in a long conversation.

"How about Athens?"

Daryl shrugged. "Athens, Georgia? Never been. That place got nothin'. Not even good bars."

Bella nodded contemplatively. "You're not wrong. The family I lived with spent their days on the couch watching TV nonstop."

He considered the two in front of him. "How about Helen? Nice enough place."  
Bella pursed her lips in thought. "I think I went there once when I was about ten. Never lived there though."

June glanced up from her current project. Bella's hand rested in June's lap with the younger girl's brush hovering over her skin in contemplation. "I went there once with my friend, Holly, remember?"

Bella wrinkled her nose. "That girl was an asshole." She tilted her head. "Remember Tybee Beach from two years ago?"

June grinned. "How could I forget?" She turned to Daryl. "We've never gone to the beach before until then." She sighed. "I wonder what it's like now."

"We'll go back one day," promised Bella. "We all can. Once everything here settles down."

Bella cocked her head as she studied Daryl, a small smile on her lips. "You are definitely from northern Georgia. Nowhere else you would get that southern _twang_."

He scoffed lightly but didn't argue against it. Finally, Bella asks, "Jasper?"

He raised an eyebrow as he rubbed his jaw.

Bella laughed in relief. "Finally!"

He pointed at her. "Only half right. Didn't grow up in the city. We were out a couple of miles near the woods."

June suddenly straightened up. "I -" she paused dramatically "- am done."

Bella stretched out her arm, revealing emerald green vines curling around her forearm down to her hand. Her palm was graced with a bright sunflower with other small buds framing it. It circles around to the back of her hand where more greens and yellows spanned.

Bella smiled down at it as she experimentally flexed her hand. "I love it." She pecked June's cheek.

June grimaced playfully, but her smile broke through. "I should probably get this back to Carol. She's been hunting me down for these paints."

Daryl sat up, strands of grass embedded in his hair. "Have you seen Michonne?"

June shrugged. "Last I heard, she and Hershel were gonna go out to burn the rest of the cloth from Cell A."

Bella looked out into the forest. "I'll ask if I can go out with them. I haven't been out in ages."

Daryl frowned at her. "You should rest some more before goin' out."

She waved him off, standing up. "Shouldn't be too bad. Just right along the fence."

June pointed at her seriously. "Don't go on and ruin my masterpiece."  
Bella raised her hands in defense. "No worries. Can't wait to look at your other masterpiece back at the cell."

She kissed June on her head, and June made her way to the prison.

Before entering, June took in one last look at the rolling hills. Daryl was escorting Bella to the gate, and June could see the others milling about. The breeze came through, sending fresh, crisp air. The warmth of the sun lingered on her skin. She could hear the birds chirping and the kids laughing.

Feeling wonderfully, immeasurably content, June walked into the prison as the heavy metal door swung shut behind her.


	38. Too Far Gone

When June heard the explosion, she had a surreal moment thinking there was a car crash. When she was eleven, she was walking to school in the morning when a car suddenly skidded across her path. It was far enough that it wasn't even close to hitting her, but she had never forgotten the sound of metal slamming and wrapping around a concrete building.

The booming sound of the impact echoed down the halls as she ran out. Adrenaline and fear had kicked in, feeling as though freezing water was poured down her spine. Bella and the others had left an hour ago, making it noon. It was glaringly bright outside, and it momentarily blinded her as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

The rest of the prison residents were gathered beside the inner fence, all crouched and tense as they looked out towards the forest. She ran up besides Daryl and Carl, looking in shock at the new crowd of people that were along the outskirts of the outer fences. She briefly thought they could've been walkers, but they stood too still. Then she noticed the cars and the freaking _tank._ And standing high above everyone else was the man they haven't seen in a long time – the Governor.

June's never actually seen the Governor up-close before. The closest she's ever been to him was when he tried to storm inside the prison months ago. June was one of the people along the walkways who shot from above.

She'd always thought about how remarkably _normal_ he looked. He didn't look particularly evil or psychotic. He could've been Bella and her's neighbor once upon a time. But the way he looked at them now made the back of her neck prickle.

"Rick," the Governor called out, his voice steady. As if it hadn't been almost six months since they last tried to kill one another. "Come down here. We need to talk."

Rick shook his head slowly, the disbelief on his face shaking off. "It's not up to me. There's a council that runs this place."  
"Is Hershel on the council?"

June's breath caught on her throat. From the distance, she could see a tied-up Hershel being brought out from one of the cars. One of the men forced him onto his knees.

"Or Michonne?"

Dread began to fill up June.

"Or how about Bella?"

Seeing her mother being pulled out of the car, hands tied and so far away, instilled fear into her heart. She cried out, stepping forward besides Daryl as she clenched her hand around the chain-link fence.

All three of them appeared otherwise unharmed. And also remarkably unafraid. She could see all the way from here how Bella jerked her elbow away from the man who led her to the front. How all three of them held themselves up straight and sure even when brought to their knees.

The pressure in her lungs forced her to give out heavy, shaky breaths that she'd been holding in. The way the Governor strolled out towards the three made her nauseous – head held up high with nothing to stop him.

She could hear the strain in Rick's voice as he tried to keep his rage in check, "I don't make decisions anymore."  
The Governor shook his head. "Not today."  
Shrouded in heavy silence, the group looked back at Rick, who, with a clenched jaw, stood up tall and swung the gate open with a surety that slowly seeped into the rest. As Rick made the trek across the field – where Daryl, Bella, and June had lounged upon not two hours ago – June felt a nudge against her arm. Stiffening, she looked to see that Daryl holding up a rifle to her. She saw the others slowly and discreetly passing around guns and ammo, silently preparing for the battle they all knew was likely to happen.

June didn't think about the lives that could be lost in this battle. She thought about those who could live – Hershel, Michonne, and Bella. It's why her hand was steady and unhesitating in accepting the rifle. She could see the same look on Daryl's. His hand was clenched white on his own rifle – a heavy duty automatic that was not meant to hold back. His head was low and shoulders tense, like an animal about to attack to defend its own.

He glanced towards the field – where Rick had just made his way across – and June could see him zero in on Bella. She was looking towards them, and while she was too far to tell for sure, June knew Bella was looking at her.

June barely looked down at the rifle as she mechanically opened the chamber and filled it with ammo. She could hear the others do the same, the bullets clinking against each other innocently like bells.

She could hear Rick's voice imploring the Governor to see sense. But almost everyone knew this was inevitable. This was the endgame.

Daryl appeared back at her side, a heavy duty automatic in his hand. He was squinting out towards the fence as he spoke to the group in a low, tense voice. "As soon as bullets start flyin', June, Maggie, Beth – y'all get those who're still inside. Take 'em to the bus. If y'all see things goin' south, leave."

June scowled. "I'm not leaving her."

He glanced down at her. "Neither will I. But you need to get the kids – get _Judith_ – outta here."

"I'm coming back as soon as I do."

Before Daryl could object, the Governor suddenly strode to one of the cars. They watched, paralyzed, as he pulls out Michonne's katana. He treaded in forbidding silence before holding it up to Hershel's neck. Hearing Maggie and Beth cry out, June felt a chill under the hot Georgian sun.

Rick's voice broke out, alarm creeping out. "All of us – we could all live together. It doesn't have to be like this. We could all live together," he repeated. "In peace. We are all stronger against the dead out there together."

He stepped up, spreading his hands. "It's not too late."

They were all too far to hear the Governor respond, but June could see him looking down at the katana in his hand. She could almost see the katana lower ever so slightly. She could hardly breathe.

June felt like she was watching everything in slow motion. It's not like they were all right next to the Governor or Rick. They could barely hear what was happening. All they could see was the Governor – who stood so _far_ – raise the katana and swing it down.

Maggie's scream rattled June to the core. Red bloomed from Hershel's white collar. He swayed for what felt like the most agonizing seconds in June's life before falling forward.

Stunned, the group stared in horror at what was the most brutal act they've yet seen in this world. They were quickly sent into action once bullets began to fly. June raised her rifle and began to aim towards the men. Her heart felt like a jackhammer and her breaths came out sharp and quick. But her aim never wavered. It wasn't until everything blurred that she realized she was crying.

While she aimed towards the Governor, she tried to keep an eye for Bella. June saw her and Michonne immediately duck down during the gunfight, but she lost them almost immediately. She could only pray that the men there were too overwhelmed by the gunfight to pay attention to them.

June was jarred out of her focus when Daryl roared beside her, " _Go now!_ "

Maggie yanked on her elbow, her face white with streaks of tears running down. Her voice was trembling, but Maggie still managed to keep herself together enough to say, "We have to get the others."

As June ran with her, she passed by Carl. The younger boy could only nod to her, never faltering as he joined Daryl and the rest in the fight.

As Maggie headed to Cell Block C, June ran into Cell Block D. People were already scrambling with their belongings. She ran by every cell yelling orders to get to the bus.

"Go now! If they get it, leave us behind!"

She saw Lizzie holding a car seat with Judith in it. Putting her hands on the girl's shoulders, June spoke to her seriously. "Get her to the bus. You and everyone their must protect her."  
Lizzie nodded, her face pale but solemn. It comforted June to see clarity in her eyes. If Lizzie, a little girl, and Maggie, who just lost her father right in front of her eyes, can be strong now, so can June.

After alerting everyone, June ran up the steps to her and Bella's home – their little dinky cell filled with photos and covered with paint.

Tears began to run down her face as June desperately gathered essentials. She could hardly think, and the adrenaline was causing her hands to tremble. But she managed to grab her journal, Bella's leather jacket, and priceless photos and shoved them in her satchel. As she ran out, June didn't even have the time to look back at the wall of sunflowers she had finished that day.

How could she when the sound of gunfire was getting louder and closer?

It was clear that the gunfight had moved inwards. Slinging her bag around her abdomen, she placed her rifle at the ready as she sprinted out as quickly and cautiously as possible.

Kicking the metal door open, she waited a split second beside the door. She saw the sunlight stream in from the outside, but no shots towards her. Quickly peeking over, she sprinted out into the open crouched low.

Immediately, someone had spotted her and began to shoot. She lunged over behind a column, waiting for a split second before returning the favor. Darting back behind, she could see wood splintering off and flying in front of her as bullets began to drill against the column.

Bracing herself, she began to shoot back before bursting into a sprint towards where she last saw Carl and the others.

Turning the corner, she saw a raised gun and hardly thought as she raised her own and pulled the trigger.

She had a strange sensation of knowing that person would be dead before her finger had fully pressed the trigger. She knew that she had killed this person – this woman – in front of her before the bullet had touched her skull.

It would later be disconcerting for her to think about how this woman was the first person she's killed. Even more unsettling would be how June didn't even slow down or glance back as she ran. If she did, maybe she would've seen the young man – a teenager around her own age - staring in horror.

But she didn't, so she ran forward. Only thinking of her mother, Daryl, Carl – _her family._

Walkers had already entered the compound. They added another source of chaos to the gunfight as both sides fought a losing battle. It was clear already that the walkers would win the prison, but still, the bullets never stopped.

Panic crept up her throat as she began to realize that she couldn't see anybody. Everyone had seemed to have disappeared. She could hear the gunshots but could only see the walkers.

What if they left her behind in the chaos? Her hand began to tremble ever so slightly as she shot the walkers down. They were beginning to converge onto her, so she continued to do the only thing she could – run.

She ran towards the Patio where the picnic tables had been toppled over their sides as a makeshift shield. Bullet holes littered the wooden surfaces. Some bodies were prone on the floor, blood sickeningly stark against the cement.

Not knowing where else to go, she headed _towards_ the gunshots. If Bella was with her, she'd be positively aghast with June's thinking. She'd probably tuck June away in a corner and handle it herself, like she always does.

But Bella wasn't here. That thought echoed in her head repeatedly, causing her nerves and awareness to heighten even more.

At least she thought so. Somebody yanked her arm roughly, pulling her behind a dumpster. As soon as she fell back, bullets embedded themselves against the metal with loud, cankerous bangs.

She instinctively moved to punch whoever the hell just grabbed her, but she almost cried with relief to see it was Daryl.

He had a very different reaction. "The hell y'doin' here," he growled as he whipped around the corner to send more bullets towards the others.

He didn't even bother waiting for a response. The walkers had followed June and the gunfight and were cutting them off – making the only way out was towards whoever was hellbent on shooting them down.

"C'mon," he grunted. He lunged forward towards an eager walker and embedded his knife into its temple. He caught it before it fell, hefting it up in front of him.

"Stay close," he called out.

"What the-"

He yanked June with his free hand, pulling her behind him before rushing forward towards the shooter. June recovered quickly enough to aim her own rifle and pull the trigger, causing the man to duck down. As soon as they reached him, Daryl threw the walker on top of him and took the chance to stab him in the head.

Daryl didn't even glance down to look back at the man. Instead, Daryl and June began to run.

"Where are we going?" she called out, glancing back towards the walkers, towards the prison – towards home.

He sensed her hesitation. Voice tired, he said, "We gotta go."

She was going to argue – they haven't even seen Bella. But the walkers were staggering towards them, forcing them out the fallen fences. And then she realized Daryl was heading towards where Bella was the last time they'd seen her.

When they approached the abandoned vehicles, June slowed down first. Her skin prickled and felt cold under the early afternoon sun. Daryl glanced back towards June, who had turned unnaturally pale. "Stay here."  
June anxiously looked back towards the walkers, who were quickly gaining ground. It felt like ages until Daryl turned back up. Face grim, he just said, "She ain't here."

"And Hershel?"

His jaw clenched, and June noticed how his own face was pale. "C'mon."

The panic rose as they entered the forest. Her cold skin turned hot, and her hands began to tremble. It was pathetic, she thought. But the not knowing ate at her. Knowing that June and Daryl could be heading the complete opposite direction from her and the others made her want to scream.

But all she could do was keep one foot in front of the other.

It was a silent agreement that her and Daryl stopped using their guns. It would only attract more walkers. It was protocol – a way of _survival_ \- for whenever one had to leave the prison.

Anytime something had burst through the trees, Daryl or June – mostly Daryl – would take care of it, hardly stopping a beat as they continued to run.

A flicker of movement caught her eye – and June had her knife up in a heartbeat, Daryl his crossbow.

But June saw the wonderfully familiar flash of green eyes and immediately propelled forward.

"Oh my god." Bella's voice was faint, her relief and wonder evident.

June didn't say anything, burying her head in her mom's neck. When she finally let go, she saw Bella's watery eyes. Blood was splattered on her cheek – but she was the best thing June's seen all day.

Daryl met her in a tight hug. June could see his shoulders sag, letting his own exhaustion and relief be visible in a rare moment. He let out a shuddering breath. When Bella pulled away, she pressed a hand to his cheek. Bella looked up at him, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed as she wordlessly asked him a question.

He put a hand on top of hers, nodding. He looked at her and June, a newfound look of determination and hope in his eyes. Gesturing them to follow, he led the way.

* * *

It was only an hour later, when they finally took a break. The whole time on the move, Bella had a hand on June's shoulder and hardly ever left her side. She would stand slightly behind to take the rear position of the group. The three had hardly spoken, with them unquestioningly following Daryl's route – which, as far as June could tell, seemed to just be heading as far from the prison as possible.

When June sat down against the trunk, the ringing in her ears from her blood pounding began to slowly fade away. Head down on her knees, she breathed in deeply as she tried to slow down her heartbeat. Sweat stuck to every inch of her body.

As everything began to become quiet again, she could hear the birds. The sound of flowing water. Bella and Daryl, who were sitting beside each other across the clearing, spoke in low murmuring voices.

"We could go back," Bella offered, but there was a hint of uncertainty at the edge of her voice.

A pause. "Nah. Place is overrun, and not with just walkers. If people made it out, they're long gone to who knows where."

"We can't abandon them."  
His words were firm, but his voice was soft when he spoke to her. "We ain't. But all we have is each other, and that's all we need right now."

June pushed herself up, pulling a canteen out of her bag. "I'm going to get water."

Bella made to get up, but June waved her down. "I'll be close. River is right over there."

She could feel Bella's eyes on her back as June went through the trees.

June just needed a break. In less than two hours, the world she's been living in had flipped over – _again._ Tears pricked her eyes. But whenever she shut them closed, all she could see was Hershel's blood spilling out all over his front. The way he swayed, before falling over so heavily. Maggie's scream.

Nauseous, she bent over. Falling to her knees, she placed her shaking hands in the cool water.

Before today, she's never really scene murder. Not like that. And before today, she wasn't a murderer.

Christ, she couldn't even remember the woman's face.

She felt the coolness of the water flow over her skin as she dipped her canteen in the river. She could only hear the water and the animals. She could see the streams of light shining through the trees – straight lines of gold piercing through the thick foliage. A flicker of a squirrel's tail. A June bug buzzing along the river.

The back of her neck prickled. Hearing the faintest rustle – cloth sliding over skin - she had her gun up in a heartbeat. The pearl encrusted handle felt cool and familiar.

A boy – almost a man – stood a couple yards away. Practically June's age, he had a small amount of baby fat on his cheeks, unintentionally softening his currently threatening stance. His gun pointed at her chest, his hand didn't tremble despite his harsh breathing.

June felt a wave of calm go over her. This wasn't like this morning where people had shot at each other aimlessly and ruthlessly, even when it was clear neither side would win the prison. This was just him and her - and the sun, the birds, and the river. She wondered if this was what Bella felt like in times like this – distended.

She stood up slowly, her own gun never wavering. Her heart beat was fast but steady, and her eyes never strayed from the boy's eyes.

They didn't say anything – just simply looked at one another. She didn't have anything on her. She had left her belongings with Daryl and Bella, and unless this boy had more people with him – which was unlikely considering she would've heard Bella and Daryl fighting back – he wasn't here to rob her.

This was something different. The certainty in the boy's eyes – the way he scanned her face, taking her in – made her know that this was what he wanted. He had been looking for her and was going to kill her.

Her grip on her gun tightened, finger hovering over the trigger.

"You killed my mom."

Instantly, it felt like her blood turned into ice. The nausea crept back in as she stared at the boy's face. As she processed the words, a pause lingered in the thick air.

"Shot her right in front of me."

That was like a kick in the lungs. His hollow voice made it even worse, and the way he looked at her with resignation. It was like looking at a dead man – someone who knew they were going to die – even though he was the one who held the gun.

It would be so _effortless_ to pull her trigger. He might be quicker. She might die. But she likely wouldn't – not if she moved first. She could kill him, and it would all be over. The walkers would come, so her, Bella, and Daryl would have to move even more. But they'd all be alive.

But a thought snuck in and lingered – like a whisper. _Carl._

He had been a position like this. He had run into a boy in the woods and killed him. But not exactly like this. The boy had been giving up his gun, not raising it. Carl, June knew, shot him in cold blood. She understood it in a way. Better safe than sorry, right? But there had to be more than killing. That can't be the only way to survive.

This? This would be self-defense. No one would bat an eye if they heard why she killed the boy in front of her.

But she didn't want to kill – not again. Not when it came with the nausea. The hollowness. Indifference.

Looking at him, she knew part of the reason he came here was because he likely knew he would die in the process. He simply didn't care, or maybe he even wanted it.

It was all of this that ran through her head in seconds. It was why she lowered her gun to her side, even when his didn't waver.

"I'm sorry." Her voice sounded far, far away. "It shouldn't have been like that."

He didn't even blink.

June saw a flicker behind him.

Bella had her arrow already notched in her bow, aimed and ready to embed itself into the boy's head. Daryl was close behind her, his own crossbow erected.

The boy tightened his grip on his gun. He didn't lower it as he turned his head slightly to the side, now aware that he was outnumbered. But June didn't think that mattered to him.

"Mom, don't."

Unsurprisingly, Bella didn't look away from the boy, or lower her bow.

A low growl emitted from Daryl's throat. "Drop it, kid."

June ignored Daryl. She opened her arms, as if to calm down a wild lion. "None of this should've happened. The Governor – Philip – he's not who he said he was. You have to know that by now."

"But that doesn't matter. It doesn't make what I did to you - to your mom - okay." She swallowed, her eyes watering. "I've never killed anyone before today. Maybe that's the same for you. I just don't want to do kill anymore. I'm so _tired_ of it."

She looked at the boy beggingly. "You don't have to kill either. I wish I didn't."

Maybe, the gun did lower ever so slightly. It reminded her of that point right before Hershel's death: when the katana wavered in the Governor's hands. A flicker of hope.

But the boy whispered something – so low she couldn't hear it. How much she wished she could've heard him, because before she knew it, her ears were ringing from the gunshot.

It felt like a red, iron hot poker stabbed her in the gut. But as quick as the feeling came it was gone. She felt the world tip sideways, and before she knew it, she was on the ground.

If she was in the right mind, she would've said the scream was the worst part. She didn't know if it came from Bella or even herself. But it reverberated in her head, till it and the gunshot became one and the same.

But everything felt unbelievably light. Something dark flickered in front of her. Wings fluttering, the June bug buzzed around before flying away. Her eyes followed it to the sky, where she saw blues, whites, and greens. She could see the sun's rays piercing through the foliage, creating the most wonderful shapes.

It wasn't until her head lolled to the side that she realized she was being picked up. Head turned to the side, her eyes scanned the ground, unfocused.

June saw the boy lying prone on the floor, a pool of dark, crimson blood beneath him – just like the one she left behind. He was looking up at the sky, a tip of Bella's arrow protruding garishly through his forehead. His brown eyes were glazed and unseeing. His black hair was fluttering gently in the low breeze. A drop of blood streaked down his cheek like a tear.

It was then that June remembered what the woman she killed – his mother – looked like.

Her son looks just like her.

June could hear her own mom's frantic voice as they ran quickly through the forest. No doubt that gunshot had attracted unwanted attention. She saw stumbling bodies, but when one of them looked like the woman, she couldn't tell if she was imagining them or not.

But Bella's voice soother her. June remembered when Bella would sing her to sleep. June had problems sleeping when she first lived with Bella. It's an unfamiliar place, the therapist had told Bella, who was just desperate for June to have a safe, normal childhood that she never had herself. But Bella's voice always lulled her to sleep.

Right now, sleep sounded good. Part of June realized that if she closed her eyes right now, she wouldn't open them. So, begrudgingly, she stared up at the sky.

Daryl had set her on the ground. June had no idea how long they'd been moving or where they were. Head propped up, all she could see were Bella and Daryl crouched over her covered in blood – her blood.

Bella was crying and her breathing was heavy, but even now June could see her trying to compose herself as she tried to stop the blood from flowing out of her daughter's body. Her face was pale and the tears were dripping down her chin. But her green eyes were alert and that telltale crease on her forehead was there. She was scared, June saw.

Suddenly, June saw a younger, more lost version of Bella in front of her. June remembered seeing her for the first time after her mom passed away. The agency had just told June that she was going home to a new family.

Bella was wearing just a sweater and jeans – not like the long, colorful skirts her mother used to wear. June hadn't wanted to go with her – she was terrified. June remember clutching the hand of some nameless woman who had worked there.

But the closer June got, the more she saw on Bella's face. June saw she was just as terrified as she was. But she remembered how Bella had gotten down to her knees to be eyelevel with her. June saw how frightened Bella's green eyes were, but how steady her hand was when Bella handed her a necklace.  
It was her mother's necklace – the same one June had given back to Bella years later. The same one she was wearing now.

Bella also wore the same fear in her eyes now. It took June a while to realize Bella was talking to her.

"June? Baby, listen to me. June?" Her voice wavered ever so slightly. There was a streak of blood on her cheek. "You're going to be alright."

It took all of June's strength to put her hand on top of Bella's, which were pressed against her wound slick with blood.

"It's going to be okay," mumbled June. Bella's eyes widened. " _You're_ going to be okay."

"No," Bella whimpered, so quiet that June almost didn't catch that. Bella's hands were shaking when they stroked her curls back.

She saw the moment when Bella realized June wasn't going to make it. Bella was never the one to delude herself or lie to June.

How cruel this all was. At the prison, June could've lived. They've treated worst. It wouldn't have been guaranteed – but now that they were away from supplies and security, the chances were next to nothing.

Daryl was on the other side of June. His face was gaunt. June tried to smile at him, but it seemed to have shaken him even more.

"Take care of her," June let out. It was harder to get the words out. "Don't let her run."

Daryl nodded. Satisfied, she looked at her mom.

Feeling something warm and wet on her cheeks, she couldn't tell if it was her tears or Bella's. Voice quavering, June croaked, "It shouldn't be you."

When Bella saw the gun in her hands – the same gun she had given June for her past birthday a sob burst through her violently. Bella pressed her hands on top of June's and the gun, shaking her head violently. " _No."_

"It has to be me, mom." June squeezed her hands. It was getting harder to think, to move. "I'm not scared."

June looked at Daryl beggingly. " _Please._ Take her away." June doesn't have long, and she'll be damned if she'll let either of them do _it_. She won't let Bella carry the burden of killing her own daughter or knowing that Daryl had done it. Bella wouldn't be able to look at him again without remembering, and June can't do that to her.

Bella looked at June in the eyes, her hand on June's cheek. She gazed at her, and seeing the determination in her daughter's eyes, something deep in Bella broke.

Bella pressed her lips to June's forehead. Spots of lights flickered in the corners of June's vision "I love you. I love you."

Daryl gave her one look back, checking with his own eyes that June was sure. Seeing him gather Bella in his arms and guiding her away comforted her.

June couldn't see them. But she felt them there.

* * *

Daryl sat on the trees roots, eyes never leaving Bella's silhouette. She was bracing herself against a tree, her forehead resting on the bark.

A gunshot echoed through the forest.

When Bella fell to her knees, Daryl was there to catch her.

* * *

 _Seven year-old June stared at the dark haired lady with wide-eyes. Something about the woman seemed vaguely familiar, but June just couldn't figure out where she had seen her before._

 _"I'm Bella," she had said. June liked her voice, even if she won't admit it. "A friend of your grandparents."  
June frowned - a small child's pout. She doesn't remember them either._

 _Bella bit her lip before steeling herself. "If you would like, you can stay with me."_

 _A pause._

 _"Are you going to be my mommy?"_

 _Bella gave her a small, sad smile. "No," she said gently. "But if you want, I'll always be there for you. Take care of you. Protect you."_

 _June blinked at her. She remembered the crash – how her mommy was talking one second and how everything suddenly flew and then stood still._

 _"Pinky swear?"_

 _Bella stretched her hand out again, the necklace in her palm. "Pinky swear."_

 _June's small hand fit into Bella's, and the two walked out the door into the world together._

* * *

Bella sat numb, vaguely hearing the sound of rushing water. Dirt caked her nails from digging June's grave. Daryl and Bella had finished just as the sun was about to set.

Daryl had guided her to a tree stump. She vaguely heard him say something, but she couldn't find it within herself to care.

She couldn't tell if that was seconds or minutes ago. She just knew she started to feel colder as the sun sunk lower. She just knew her daughter was buried in the ground a few yards away.

The world was bathed in warm orange light when Daryl came back. She didn't hear him, but suddenly he was right in front of her. She didn't look at him. Instead she looked out toward the open field, where the sun was sinking bit by bit.

Crouched on the ground, he looked up at her. Not saying anything, he scanned her face as he took her hands.

It took her a while to realize what he was doing.

A strip of wet fabric in his hands, he slowly rubbed away the layer of dirt and June's blood on her arms. Her hands felt frozen in his, but he never waned. Bit by bit, her skin began to peek through.

Looking down, something broke. Not because of the grave's dirt or her daughter's blood. But the paint that had still managed to stay on her skin.

It felt like years ago when it was her, Daryl, and June lounging out in the sun. When June had painted sunflowers – the same ones Bella never got to see in the cell – on her hands.

The yellow petals and green leaves were still on the back of her hands. But now, red stained her hands too.

When she looked up at Daryl, he felt lost. He didn't know what to do, and he's never felt more helpless than now.

No place to go, and it was up to him to protect her.

His motions slowly ceased, and all he could do was hold her hands as she gazed at him with those hollow eyes.


	39. Absinthe

The rope in Daryl's hand pricked his skin as the frayed edges stubbornly refused to slip through the knot. He ignored the stinging pricks and roughly shoved the end through before tightening it with all of his strength. The pieces of metal tied to the string jangled against one another pathetically. Exhaling slowly, he picked up a dented tin can and using his knife, jabbed a hole through its side.

As he continued the tedious process of tying the string through, he glanced up through the trees before looking at the sky. He repeated the anxious act every time a new piece of metal joined the others.

He forced himself to level out his breathing and to focus on the task at hand. No point making a damn fuss. But still, his nerves were beginning to get the better of him.

Every time he shut his eyes to sleep, or even when he couldn't hear Bella walking behind him, he half expects her to just be _gone._ He's afraid that when he turns around or opens his eyes, there would be no sign of Bella.

But she was just out hunting. Every morning, they'd take turns to gather what they can before they pick up their things and head out deeper into the forest.

 _Don't let her run._

He could see it now: her looking down at Daryl's sleeping body before shrugging on her coat, grabbing her bow, and walking away without a glance back. The image has been haunting him ever since June's death three days ago.

She had no reason to stay anymore, a hateful part inside him would say. The only reason she had joined the group in the first place, way back at the water tower, was because of June. She didn't need them – _him_ – to survive. And why would she want to stay with him? She'll just be reminded of what he failed to do. Hell, even June knew she would.

 _Don't let her run._

He threw down the rope roughly, his hands flexing and unflexing as the tin can jangled against the ground, weakly protesting.

"You alright?"

He snapped his head up, feeling his neck flush red.

Bella stood at the edge of their camp, a handful of squirrels hanging on her waist. Her face expressionless – like it has been since _then_ – and only a small furrow of her eyebrows gave her concern away.

He nodded. They haven't spoken much these days. Bella was mourning in her own way, and Daryl just felt _exhausted_. He was constantly on edge that something – someone – would stumble through – or leave. They both hardly sleep since they had to take turns throughout the night to keep watch.

Standing up, he asked, "Ready?"

The two picked up their few belongings and walked deeper into the forest.

 _He didn't sleep that night. After washing away the dirt, paint, and blood from Bella's hands, Daryl kept watch all throughout the night. Ain't no way in hell he'd put Bella on watch._

 _He forgot how_ dark _it gets now. The prison had softened them. Back when they lived that first winter on the roads, the group had to learn how to adapt to the darkness. There was no light pollution to brighten the sky. Now, night was night._

 _He knew she was awake now. She had fallen into a fitfull sleep a few hours ago on the hard ground – right on June's grave. They had buried her at the edge of the forest, where the canopy of trees broke off into rolling hills that they were able to see go out for miles. It would be a vulnerable place to trek through out in the day, but a beautiful place for June._

 _A deep indigo, the sky had a smattering of stars breaking through the darkness. The moon was a thin, slender crescent, like light shining through a tear in a curtain. It was hardly enough to allow optimum vision, but Daryl could tell the sun would rise at the end of the hour. The indigo was a welcoming sight after enduring the darkness of night._

 _It was in this hour that his sight grew so that he could see her lying on her side. He could see her face from where he was pacing. Unlike the powerful, hunched strides he usually took when he was anxious, he slinked slowly, like a restless panther. Too much movement or noise could alert anything nearby, so he took care not to be heard or seen._

 _Bella's form was too still underneath night's blanket. He could see the outline of her features - her cheekbone, her lips, jaw. He could see her hand lying on the ground, a few inches in front of her face. He could see a crescent of her green irises, partially lit only by the moon's bright sliver._

 _She wasn't crying. She was looking at her hand in front of her – but her mind was off far away, he could tell. And as the sky grew brighter, her position never changed. She just stared straight ahead._

 _Daryl waited. But he knew it was risky staying here. At the edge of the trees, anything could see them from the open hills. And there were still lingering walkers from the night before. It was easy enough to discard them – as they rarely came in more than pairs. But he knew the longer they stayed, the more they were testing their luck._

 _When Bella finally sat up, she looked more dazed than anything._

 _No, not dazed. Blank. Cut off._

 _It was then, when the sky was the palest of lavenders and oranges, that he crouched beside her. Sighing, he pulled out something from his belt. Reflecting the swirls of colors from above, the pearl hilt of June's gun emitted a soft glow. He held it in his hands, unsure, before holding it out to Bella._

 _He had thought long throughout the night what to do with it. It was June's weapon – Bella's gift to her not long ago. June adored and took care of it. But it was also what June used to end her life. What Daryl had to remove himself from her dead hands to spare her mother from further pain._

 _He knew Bella wouldn't appreciate seeing it, but he had to ask._

 _A brief mix of emotions flashed across her tired face. Pain. Grief. Anguish. Stricken, she shook her head._

 _"I can't."_

 _He spoke quietly, his jasper eyes never leaving her face. "Could leave it with her."_

 _She hesitated, fingers curling, digging into the fresh dirt. A blade of grass was in her hair. "No." She looked at him, her expression unfathomable. "Keep it. She would've wanted you to have it."  
Initially, part of him felt struck when she said that. A penance to remind himself of what he failed to protect? To carry the weapon as a reminder of the choices June had to make at only fifteen years old? _

_But looking at her sincere, tired face, he knew Bella meant well. Her eyes were wide, and mouth was soft. Her own way of saying don't blame yourself. It made him feel touched – honored – to carry it._

Squatting a couple yards away, the two paused as they critically took in their surroundings. The forest had opened up to a large, manmade clearing where log cabins were sporadically placed. Stone pathways meandered through the grass, connecting every cabin to a central walkway that eventually led to a larger, woody building. There were signs pointing down the paths that would say "Information Center," "Recreational Room," "Dining," and more.

Daryl squinted towards the larger building. "Some kinda summer camp?"

Bella pursed her lips. "Too nice to be a summer camp. Some kind of hippy resort, maybe."

He grunted softly. The two crept forwards, senses heightened as they took in the lack of movement and noise. The individual log cabins were more like homes. Each were two stories and sat on their own small little hill. They had wrap-around porches and stairs that led up to every door.

Definitely too nice to be a summer camp.

The whole resort sat along the slant of a mountain, allowing every house to have their own, breathtaking view of the short mountains and forests that spanned out on either side for miles. It was wonderfully, and suspiciously, peaceful.

Still, signs of time were apparent. Wayward vines and weeds sprouted between every stone and crept along the walls of buildings. Some signs were knocked over, and large fallen branches were strewn about the path.

The two exchanged glances as the crept up the stairs to one of the houses along the edges. They were in the open, but they had no choice if they wanted to see what was inside. The wooden porch beneath Daryl's feet creaked under his unfamiliar weight. Squinting through the window, he couldn't see through the thin, translucent white curtain. But he couldn't see any shadows moving from inside. He nodded at Bella, who stood beside the door with eyes scouring towards the rest of the houses, high on alert.

She knocked lightly on the door. They waited in tense silence, and when no noise met their ears, Daryl kicked the door open, crossbow ready to fire.

The door banged against the inside wall anticlimactically. He could feel Bella behind him, still on watch from the outside.

Light streamed through the windows, blanketing everything in pale gold. The only movement came from the disturbed dust that swirled violently in the air.

Bella was definitely not far off when she guessed this place was a resort. The inside, though still modest by resort-standards, was quite quaint. It opened up immediately into a high ceiling living room, complete with cozy couches and a fireplace. No walls separated it from the modest kitchen and dining room. A stairway on the side went all the way upstairs, which, from here, looked to be an open loft of a single bedroom.

Yanking the small fridge open, Daryl was greeted with rows of assorted soda cans, nuts, candy, and alcohol. A card in the inside listed the prices for every item, not unlike how hotels do.

He scanned every corner of the house, but it was built to be open and bright, and thus, had no other rooms besides a bathroom and a closet. Walking up the stairs, it opened immediately into the bedroom, which contained a large bed, couch, and TV. On the far side, huge windows spanned the wall. A glass door led right out to a balcony that granted a view of the forest-blanketed mountains.

Walking over to the loft's ledge, he glanced down towards the front door. From here, he could see over the whole living room.

"It's clear."  
She took a step in before stopping completely, a single eyebrow raised. Unexpectantly, something in her expression soured. Frown deepening at the luxurious – in apocalyptic standards, at least – space, she simply nodded toward out the door. "We should check the rest."

They checked the other eleven cabins – all of which were practically identical to the first. They were unnervingly empty. More than that – they were clean and untouched.

"Can't believe that nobody has found this place by now," Bella murmured as they stood in awe at the huge stacks of food that sat in the kitchen pantry. It was clear which were once the fresh produce, since the smell of rot lingered over certain boxes. But there were grains, seasonings, and other packaged ingredients that would be more than enough for the two of them. The cafeteria was essentially a restaurant. There were only about a dozen tables, but it was complete with a bar, piano, and grills.

Her hand skimmed over the wooden counters. "Everything looks hardly touched. No walkers. Like no one even used it from before."

"It's far from everythin' – cities, towns. Ain't easy stumbling in especially if it's on top of a mountain," mused Daryl. He picked up one of the kitchen knives, watching the light glint off its edge. "Harder for walkers to go up hill."

"Doesn't explain how it looks hardly used."

They walked out of the kitchen out into the open dining area. Every building in this establishment seemed to have been built with the view in mind. They were all staggered throughout the incline so that every window peered out over the mountains without any trees or other cabins blocking the way.

"Anyone out on the other mountains might be able to see us from here," Bella pointed out. She stood arms crossed in front of the windows. She was tapping the wooden panel.

"Maybe. But if no one's come so far, shouldn't worry too much about it."

She exhaled slowly, a hand reaching up to brush the hair out of her face. He watched as she tugged on a strand of hair restlessly. She turned towards the piano, and while her eyes lingered on it, she didn't reach for it and dared not go closer.

Daryl spoke slowly, leaning against one of the tables. "Want to leave? Could bring what we can and continue on." Wherever that may be to.

It was clear that Bella hasn't warmed up to the place. While it wasn't what Daryl was used to either, it offered all the essentials they needed. Something was clearly gnawing on her, but to be blunt, it would be stupid to leave this behind.

But he'd follow her without question.

Bella, however, seemed to have known that this wasn't something they should just walk away from. "No. It's fine."

She didn't elaborate, and he didn't ask. Instead, he watched as she walked past the piano, eyes fixated on something at the other side.

His eyes scoured the far wall, which was lined with bottles of various brands of whiskey, vodka, rum, and more. He was sure that she was seeing something beyond them that he kept scanning the area for something that might've caught her eye. So, he was wary when he saw her reach for a bottle.

Well, _bottles._ She plucked various ones from the shelves, her fingers brushing over the labels till she found the ones she was looking for. She chose with the grace of someone who was no stranger to what they tasted like – not from someone who doesn't drink.

Hands on his crossbow, he only watched attentatively as she carried the bottles expertly in her arms and walked around the counter. She ignored his gaze and hardly glanced back as she walked outside.

He immediately followed her out, never letting her out of his sight.

It was already dark – darker than usual with the moon now hiding from the sun's rays. Still, without trees' canopy blocking their view of the sky, he was able to see Bella's silhouette ahead of him. He followed her as she weaved her way back to the first house they entered. It was at a higher elevation than the others, offering more to see and a better vantage point.

He entered the cabin behind her, the door closing with a low, loud thud behind him. He hesitated before locking the door behind him. Casting a wary glance out its window, he rummaged through his pack before pulling out the string of metal. Wrapping it around the door's handle, he stretched the string as far as he could so that it was woven around most of the curtained windows. If anything tried coming in through this side, they sure as hell would hear it.

He squinted around the dark room, unable to see where Bella had gone. It was strange how quiet it was. Just four walls and a roof made everything sound deafening quiet. After living these past few nights out among the animals and bugs, the two have grown accustomed already to nature's natural song.

Not seeing her downstairs, he quietly went up the stairs slowly, as if not to spook her away.

It was marginally brighter upstairs. The double doors were swung wide opened, and he could see her sitting form.

He approached slowly, but loud enough to let her be aware of his presence. She didn't turn toward him, however. Sitting on the balcony's floor, she was leaning against the lower wooden railing. In the day, she wore just her green tank, but now she had her leather jacket draped over her shoulders. One leg was bent to her chest, the other was dangling over the edge. Her face was angled out towards the view – a dark sea of rolling trees underneath the bright, numerous stars.

Walking out to the ledge, he remained standing with his arms crossed as he leaned back against the railing. Casting a glance down, he was rather unthrilled to see that it dropped a couple yards down. Not high enough to be life threatening, but enough to make him wary.

"You got a plan for all of those?"

Bella looked down at the bottle in her hands. Daryl could only hear crickets for a good two beats before she sighed heavily.

"It's been almost eight years since I last drank."

It didn't answer his question, but he understood her, in his own way. He wasn't going to judge her. Hell, she was there for him when he decided to get piss-drunk. Merle's death wasn't easy for him to accept, and June's definitely ain't going to be easy for her.

What concerned him was how _quiet_ she became. While he was erratic and volatile, she woke the next day as if in a daze. And it's as if she never woke up from it. She hunted, fought walkers, and never slacked in her duties, but she never brought up June's death – or June, for that matter – again.

He watched her as she unscrewed the cap. The sharp smell of alcohol filled his senses. The scent was dizzying. There was something sweeter, nuttier about it that suggested it was more than just vodka or whiskey. A dark amber color – brandy, he guessed. Not his first choice, but it suited her.

She just held it her hands, staring at the bottle. Her thumb stroked over the label. Must've been a high-quality brand – he only knew the shittier ones. All of the bottles around her looked much above his pay grade back in the day. But she chose those for a reason.

He could see her internally struggle with taking the first sip. And the longer she left it open, the more potent the smell became. He could already feel it in his head, and his throat felt dry.

"Hold on," he said, unnecessarily. Walking back inside, he squinted in the dark as he rummaged around the counters.

When he came back out, she only looked up when he sat by her feet, leaning back against the lower railing. He held out a glass to her, keeping one for himself. At his prompting, she poured a hearty amount into his cup and then in hers.

Her expression was softer, less forced, when he looked at her. He raised a glass up to her, and, after a pause, she did the same. A ghost of a smile was on her lips, but he didn't notice with her hair acting as a curtain from the moonlight.

They both raised the glass to their lips and drank deeply. He let his glass dangle in his hand, the amber liquid swirling as he watched her completely chug her whole cup down. Her hand was clenched white around it as she slammed it down on the wooden floor with a full thud. Her eyes were shut as the alcohol streamed down like liquid fire into her chest.

He only watched as she poured more into her cup and then downed it again.

When she moved for her the bottle, he placed his free hand over it, raising an eyebrow. At that, she simply looked at him, her cheeks pink, and said, "Eight. Years."

He moved his hand away and downed the rest of hid.

Her slowing down, they continued to drink in silence. It was hard to tell how affected she was by now – and it should be a damn lot – but he began to feel the warmth in his chest spreading everywhere. His head buzzed, and the stars looked like they were shooting across the skies – white lines streaking through the dark.

By then, almost two bottles were gone.

"Why eight years?" Although his drawl was more pronounced, his words hadn't slurred. It was a personal question. But he only knew that she didn't drink. It was clear from how she held the bottles in her hand that it contained a heavier, unfathomable meaning.

"Afraid to, I suppose." Her voice was just above a whisper. It lingered in the air, like smoke. Quiet, yet drawn out. "For June."

His mind was muddled, but he thought it out. She couldn't have been more than twenty-one years old at the time.

Her hand was covering an eye, fingers pressed against her temple, as if she had a headache. But he could tell it was more like thinking about a bad memory.

"What-" his voice faltered, aware of the weight of the question he was going to ask. It wasn't like him to pry, to ask. He observed and gained from what he saw.

He's seen the way she turned away when he smoked. How long ago, she jerked when she saw Merle's drug stash. The way she scratched at her skin afterwards.

And it was also what he didn't see. She never spoke about her life between June's grandparents' deaths and raising June.

"What happened to you?"

She winced, and he regretted asking the moment it left his mouth. Stupid, he thought. Something oily and dark in him stirred awake, something he hasn't felt in months. She doesn't deserve this – _him._ Only making things worse. Can't protect June or –

"When I had no place to go, I lived on my own. At my lowest point, I was on the streets." Her voice faltered, being starting up again. "I was eighteen. One day, a man approached me."

Daryl stilled, but he never looked away from her, even if she wasn't looking back at him. Her voice grew smaller. "I was so, so desperate. Cold."  
She flexed her hands, as if warming them up in a memory. "It was supposed to be one night. Just for the bed. But he kept me fed. Took care of me. Offered stability. He had money – some fancy white collar job. I don't even remember what."  
"The night turned into weeks. Months. Years." She grimaced. "He kept me sated with alcohol and drugs. I woke up not knowing what happened the night before more often than not."

Her voice filled with shame, she quietly confessed, "I loved him. I felt like he kept me grounded, even though he was the reason I was always so disconnected from the world."

"Eventually, I started finding bruises when I woke up. He first started saying things like I fell, how I'm so clumsy when crossed. I believed him. But, it got worse."

Her voice was steady, but he'd see her raise a hand to wipe her face. When she raised her arm, revealing the thin black lines unfurling across her skin, she tapped over a part in the inside of her bicep. When he realized what he was seeing, the warmth drained away with cold, icy horror.

He's seen her tattoos, but now he knew he's never _looked._ Underneath the ink, he could see raised skin. He wasn't a stranger to cigarette burns.

If he focused hard enough, he could see at least three.

"Bruises turned into fractures. Burns. Sometimes cuts. Rarely life threatening, but enough to leave a scar. It was when I woke up on the floor one day with rope burns around my wrists that I knew I could die. Whether from him, or the drugs – I knew it would happen eventually."  
She raised her head to look at him, and he saw her desperation. Desperation to explain herself. Part of him wanted to look away, but he never did. "And I didn't care. I only cared about my next hit. He kept me in line by being in charge of my intake."

"The only thing that changed was June."

She let out a weak laugh. Shaking her head, she wiped her face again. "It was selfish. I was a junkie living with an influential psychopath. But the day after I got that phone call, I stole his money and disappeared."

She bit her lip. "I wasn't strong enough to leave him on my own. It was always June. She changed my life. I sobered up and grew. For the first time, I didn't need anybody else. All but her. It became not about myself or my needs. Without her, I would've wasted away into a shell."

"She was the one who inspired me to get these." She motioned to her tattoos with a trembling hand. "Said beautiful things can grow from damaged places."

"I don't know who I am – what I can be – without her. I feel so _fucking lost._ Because the only person I was without her is the same woman who only felt anything when jacked up on alcohol or drugs."

She fell quiet, a finger tracing one of the lines.

She didn't look up until he began to speak, his voice a soft rumble. "I can't promise anythin' in this world anymore. But I know no matter _what happens_ , I ain't goin' anywhere. You won't be doin' this alone – not while I'm here."

Bella nodded, the palm of her hand pressed against her mouth.

"I don't-" His voice caught, and he fell quiet before starting again. "I don't know how to help get through this. But I know the 'psycho bitch' woman who saved mine and Rick's asses back at the water tower is strong." Her face softened, the faintest smile on gracing her lips. "Not just her though. But also the woman who grew with nothin', and could still have the strength to raise an incredible girl who grew up to be just as strong as her mother."

When he reached for her hand, he didn't know which one of them was more surprised. Maybe it was the low simmer in his blood, but his uncertainty flew out the window when he felt the warmth of her hand.

She inhaled shakily, wiping at her face with her free hand. Too overcome with emotions for words, Bella simply squeezed his hand tightly.

With his thumb, he instinctively rubbed the back of her hand, over her knuckles. She began to calm down, her small hiccups fading into even breaths.

Her voice was still shaky when she finally spoke. "I know you have scars, too." He froze, his thumb stilling. "And I know you don't like talking about it. But I hope you know that if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here whenever you need me."  
It was his turn to be lost for words. But she didn't seem to be expecting a response either.

He didn't reply until much later, taking the chance to lighten the mood. "Y'know, never saw you as a brandy type."

He heard her chuckle and as weak and small as it was, it was something. Enough for him to feel a flash of warmth that didn't come from the brandy.

"I've got something else that packs quite a punch." When her hand slipped away from his, the warmth lingered. He flexed his hand and tried to focus on what she was doing.

She had grabbed their empty glasses and was pouring something new. Like liquid emeralds, the green drink glistened brilliantly under the stars. She didn't put a lot in, barely a third of the cup.

He reached for one and, swirling it experimentally, watched as the green liquid shimmered just as brightly as Bella's eyes.

"Absinthe?"

She nodded. "The Green Fairy."

It was fitting how the absinthe looked precisely like her eyes in liquid form. Brilliant. Bright.

Intoxicating.

Bella raised her glass. "Here's to…" She chuckled humorously, shaking her head. "I don't even know what to cheer to right now."

Daryl met her glass in the air. "To us. Breathin'. Hearts beatin'." He looked at her seriously and sincerely. "We still here. Us against the world."

They threw the glass back, and the feeling of the absinthe burning down his throat woke him up. Feeling the most invigorated since the days at the prison, he stood up on steady legs. Meeting Bella's wary look, he raised his glass up towards the sky. "How far y'think I can throw this?"

"You serious?" Her smile was growing, however, and that was all he needed.

When he stuck his hand out towards Bella, she looked at him as if he's grown two heads. And at this point, he might as well had. But she slipped her hand back through his, and he pulled her up. "Bet I can throw farther than you can."

She snorted, her glass rolling in her hand. "Big words."  
He glanced down at her, his own lips quirking up at the corners. "Ready?"

When he counted up to three, the two chucked their cups as far as they could. Like shooting stars, the glasses sparkled as they refracted light from the moon. They spun out far and far over the mountain's incline, till they disappeared in the dark sea of trees. Daryl couldn't even hear the sound of glass breaking.

When Bella, eyebrow raised, picked up one of the empty bottles, Daryl actually smiled.

And for a moment, underneath the blanket of the night sky, the two could forget the tragedies and uncertainty. In their own bubble, they could relish – just for a moment – in being alive.


	40. Needles

Bella slowly stirred away to the rhythmic sound of dull thuds. Waking up felt like unsticking her limbs from syrup. No, more like her limbs was made of syrup, and the more she tried to move, the more they resisted. First, her fingers stretched out as they slipped through the crisp white bedsheets. She bunched them into her fists, as her eyes fluttered open.

And then immediately shut them, emitting a small groan. She buried her face into the comforter, feeling the echo of a pounding headache. She inhaled deeply, smelling pines and dust.

Peeking her head up, she instinctively glanced toward the bedside, where long ago an alarm clock might've greeted her.

Instead, a single white budding flower entered her sight - a plucked Cherokee rose placed in one of the bottles that was mercifully spared in last night's tossing match. She reached out, feeling the silkiness of the petals between her fingers.

A barely-there smile grew on her lips, but once last night's events slowly oozed back in, she inhaled sharply, replacing that smile with a cringe. Embarrassment flooded her, her cheeks turning pink. Her hand flew back up to cover eyes.

"Fuck." She dropped her hand and looked up at the wooden ceiling. " _Fuck."_

The embarrassment faded, but the shame lingered. She hadn't thought about _him_ in years. She's moved on, long before even the outbreak. This hasn't been something she's let affect her life negatively. She had to put it aside the moment she took in June. It wasn't about her anymore.

But now, June isn't here. And fuck, she missed her.

Before her eyes could flutter shut, the single bloom on her bedside caught her attention once more. Her eyes warm, she blinked back her tears.

Hand on her necklace, she sat up feeling her arms and head protest to the sudden movement. Her joints popped as she stretched, and she moved down the stairs slower than a walker.

A bottle of water and a box of aspirin swiped from the cafeteria's first aid section awaited her on the kitchen counter. Chugging down the bottle of water, she also swallowed down her pride as she walked out through the front door, the repetitive thuds growing louder.

The sun seemed glaringly bright as it illuminated the whole campground. She walked up to the porch's railing, where she looked down to where Daryl stood.

Raising an axe over his head, he swung it hard onto the already hacked up log. Every swing added to the steady cadence that just _conveniently_ lined up with the throbbing in her head.

"Did that log do something to you so that you just had to wake everything – dead and living – within the mile?"

Stopping in mid-swing, Daryl straightened in surprise as he squinted towards her. He paused as he glanced at his axe before looking back up at her. "Better to get firewood now than in the dark." He put his hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun as met her eyes. "Unless we ain't stayin' here?"  
Bella raised an eyebrow. Her finger tapped on the wood. "This place is a treasure trove that is completely surrounded. It's a target, and we wouldn't be able to protect this place if it comes down to it."

He pulled out his red bandana and wiped his face. "The cover can be a good and bad thing. Get a good vantage point from way up here. Ain't gotta be for forever. And -" he tucked the bandana in his back pocket. "It could be ours."  
She cocked her head, her movement slow and tired. She hummed before saying, "Guess we better get started."  
But turning this place into something that was able to protect them ended up requiring more than just throwing down a welcome mat. They spent the rest of the day chopping up wooden spikes to impale in the ground around the perimeter, creating net traps, and gathering any food or goods they find.

There was a matter of weapons. They had their two bows, two handguns, and three knives. If any person came across them, it would be easy to outgun them.

The next night, Bella stared at the thick, goopy liquid that they were calling dinner.

"Could go back to the ranch. We still have the other bag of guns we didn't bring back to the prison."

She refused to look up, the sound of Daryl's metal spoon scraping the insides of the tin can stopping. Instead, she shoved a spoonful of the chicken soup into her mouth. She felt the warmth of the fireplace on her feet and saw the flickers of the flames as shadows danced across the carpet.

"Alright." His quiet drawl spoke in cadence with the fire's snaps and cracks. "Can head out in a couple days after we get this place sorted."

* * *

The more they were able to cross things off the list, the more the two were able to slowly, yet surely relax. But Bella appreciated having tasks to do. The busier she was, the more she didn't have to think. Whenever she paused and took the time to appreciate the natural, unmistakable beauty of this place, it hit her hard knowing her daughter wasn't there to see it.

Bella had such hope in those few hours after the prison's attack. They had lost so much, but running into Daryl and June like that made her feel invincible.

The trust Bella had in her daughter's action – in June's choice to trust the boy – will haunt her. Bella won't regret trusting her daughter's intuition, but she'll regret not trusting her own.

* * *

Bella sat at the floor of her bed. Daryl and Bella have agreed to make the first house they resided in as their official home. She had offered – even supported – the idea of letting him sleep upstairs with her. She didn't want them to be separated – not after everything they've lost. If that meant bringing up another mattress or sofa up the stairs, then that's hardly anything.

But he disagreed. He didn't say why he'd rather take the couch downstairs, just saying he didn't want to overstep. It was probably as uncomfortable for him to say as it was for her to hear it. But Bella knew he said no mainly because he was taking it upon himself to be the first line of defense should anyone break in. To protect her.

She drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. Her finger tapped on her knee insistently. Chin on her forearms, she exhaled slowly as she stared down at the leather satchel. The same one June had run back for at the prison.

Bella had already looked through its contents. A photo album, a few of her rocks, and June's journal. But she has refused to open both the album and diary. She moved around June's diary as if it was the weapon that killed June itself. To say it frightened her was an understatement. Why Bella was so frightened – she didn't know. But she just knew that the thought of opening it filled her with a sense of dread.

Christ, how she wished she could get another drink.

She knew it would be a steep fall once she used alcohol as a crutch. So did Daryl, who had graciously took it upon himself to be in charge of food – thus, only he would be around the bar.

So here she was. Wonderfully - and depressingly - sober.

Her tapping suddenly gained speed, until she abruptly stopped and grabbed the bag. Without slowing down, she shoved it open. Her eyes forcibly went over the diary, as if it was like looking at the sun. Instead, she grasped the photo album.

Settling the wide book in her lap, she rubbed her hand over the yellow cover. It had only a single sunflower print on its front. She opened it to the first page.  
Immediately, she shut her eyes. Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, the image of a little baby June was already seared into her brain. But she wasn't going to stop now.

She forced herself to take a deep breath every time she turned the page. This wasn't the hysterical, grief-stricken sob she had let loose that drunken night. This was a slow ache that grew with every photo of a smiling, youthful June. This wasn't caused by grief of lose, but just missing her with every bone in her body.

It was surreal when she turned the page and saw photos from the prison. It went from her and June's last vacation together at the beach, to Glenn's birthday celebration. The transition was just as sudden as the real thing, but if felt wonderfully _right_ looking at Glenn, Carol, Rick, Daryl – just _everyone._

June had taken an individual photo of almost everyone at the prison. Bella's fingers trembled ever so slightly over their faces. They've only known each other for less than two years, but it felt like a lifetime. She prayed to whatever – whoever – was listening for them to be _alive._

Underneath every small portrait, June had the person sign their names – like a yearbook she joked. There was Maggie's neat print, to Carol's cursive, to Daryl's scrawl. But the one that Bella couldn't stop looking at was June's curly, tidy print.

June

Bella sighed, her finger rubbing her lower lip. She reached down, pressing her fingertips lightly over June's signature. Above that was her smiling self, a photo that Bella had taken for her. It shook her to see how _old_ June was. Bella was able to see the beginnings of a strong, hopeful woman. So different from the little baby in the first place.

With her name on June's name, Bella was struck with a rather rash idea. Yet as soon as she thought about it, it felt wonderfully right.

Standing up, she placed the open photo album on the bed as she quickly walked to the night stand. She rummaged through its contents and grabbed a black ink pen and a wooden pencil. Then a sewing kit from the wardrobe. Finally, rubbing alcohol, dental floss, and duct tape from their emergency pack.

"You good up there?"  
"Yeah," Bella called back down, pausing her frenzied movements. "Just finding something."  
"Need help?"

"No, I'm good."

Sitting beside the photo album, she used a lit candle to provide enough light for her to carefully draw on her wrist with the pen. Once satisfied with the finished product, she broke open the pen with her knife, careful to prevent the ink from spilling out. She grabbed a sewing needle and carefully stuck the end of it into the pencil's eraser so that the pointy end faced outward.

The next part was more tedious. Bella wrapped the white floss tightly around the pencil's metal end and all the way up around the needle. She secured the needle by wrapping some tape around the pencil's eraser.

After pouring rubbing alcohol over her hands, arm, and needle, she placed herself as close to the candle as possible. Using its light, she dipped the needle into the black ink.

Without any hesitation, she lined the tip of the needle to the drawing on her wrist. Holding her breath, she lightly, yet firmly, pushed hard enough so that it broke skin.

It felt like the lightest of pricks – more than a nuisance than anything. She could practically see the ink seeping into the layer right beneath her skin. When she pulled the needle out, a small bubble of ink resurfaced.

Exhaling, she felt the familiar rush and freedom she got with every tattoo.

She knew that this was not a top-notch method for a tattoo in terms of hygiene. This whole procedure would've thrown up red flags from any person with medical background. And not to mention the likelihood of getting an infection still hung in the air.

But none of that deterred her from sticking the needle back in her arm.

It was always poetic, she thought. Using a needle to inject ink instead of drugs. Better to feel pricks of pain than emptiness.

It was an emotional, yet mind-numbing process. She didn't know how long it took. But once she finished, she wiped away the excess ink with an alcohol-soaked napkin.

She paused, her eyes scanning over the raw, pink skin. On her wrist, right over her pulse point, was a black "J" in June's handwriting.

* * *

"Hey." Bella looked up from the ground to see Daryl standing at the doorway, wiping his hands cleans with his bandana. "Dinner's ready."

It's been exactly nine days since June's death, and every day felt like clockwork. There were more buildings to sweep through, yet it became more easier to do things like smile. Maybe even laugh.

A large part of her felt guilty every time she did either of these things. Maybe, if this had happened when life was normal and safe, she would've mourned for weeks, months. But now, the world still kept turning. There were always walkers to kill and tasks to do.

They had been sorting through the pantry that day – which took quite a while considering how much food there was. They'd leave most of it here they decided, maybe place a couple traps and warnings. The rest, they'd bring to their home or in hidden places throughout the compound.

She followed Daryl back towards their home. And what she saw inside brought another rare smile to her face.

The small dining table was lit up with candles. The kitchen had plenty, and without generators or electricity, they've been using them every night. But with plates and silverware placed over a clean white tablecloth, the whole effect was quite lovely.

She raised an eyebrow at the setup, trying – unsuccessfully - to suppress her smile. Looking at Daryl with his red bandana in hand and arms crossed, she asked, "What's the occasion?"  
He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. "Don't need any. C'mon."

Her mix of suspicion and surprise continued to grow once she saw the food. Daryl has many skills, but cooking wasn't one of them. And their meals have consisted of rationed portions of canned foods that were occasionally warmed up if they were feeling extra fancy.

But tonight, he cooked pasta. Tomato sauce over heaping portions of noodles. It was simple, but it was much more effort than he should've.

The pasta really wasn't anything special. It wasn't bad at all, but neither did it blow her mind. Still, she attempted to control her smile as she chewed. "Wow," she said, eyes wide. "This is amazing."

Daryl snorted, but Bella could tell he was pleased. It made her want to smile even more.

They didn't talk much for most of it, but it was the happiest Bella's felt in a long time. Everything just felt more… settled.

And sitting with a person she cared for dearly who was shoveling his dinner into his mouth, with the sounds of night crickets and owls filling up the space, and a soft breeze blowing through the open window made her feel at peace.

As she reached for her glass, Daryl suddenly grabbed her arm. He gave out a soft swear under his breath as he shoved her sleeve up, getting out of his chair as he kneeled beside her. She had been wearing long sleeves to cover the gauze from her tattoo. She hadn't told him about it, and she understood the alarm in his eyes.

"It's not what you think," she assured him, but he still looked at her with fear and shock. Losing her daughter and everything else, she didn't want him to jump into ideas about harming herself intentionally.

Still, he began to unwrap her gauze, and she let him, feeling his warm fingers trail over her skin. Once the gauze fell off, he flipped her hand over, revealing the almost healed "J" on her wrist. The relief in his face was palpable.

"Sorry I didn't tell you." Her expression was sheepish. She reached up tucked a strand around her ear. "It was kind of a split-second decision."

"No need to apologize. I did kinda overreact." He pressed his thumb against the ink, rubbing her skin. Her pulse quickened ever so slightly, and she wondered if he could tell. He paused, as if realizing what he was doing. "I like it."  
She gave him the smallest of smiles, before taking a deep breath. "Hey." She lightly grabbed his hand, flipping hers over. He looked up at her, still kneeling beside her. "I know it's been a rough time for both of us. But I want you to know that I'm so grateful that I'm not alone." His eyes never looked away from hers, and she liked it. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me and June, and I just wanted to say thank you."

He squeezed back, their hands in her lap. "You were there for me with Merle. I'll always be here for you. Nothin' will ever change that."

Bella tilted her head, her eyes scanning his face and her smile growing. She read up and brushed his hair to the side, letting her see his face clearer. His gaze didn't waver. "I know."

Her cheeks felt warm, and her lungs felt like they weren't getting enough air. She felt terrified, but in a good way. Like she was anticipating something to happen and wanted it to, but she didn't know what exactly. It felt too much, so she focused on the warmth and comfort of his hands. She could feel his rough callouses on his knuckles and finger pads, but his touch was impossibly gentle – more than one would expect first looking at him.

Bella thinks he feels it too, and the knowing way they look at each other pushes him over the edge, because suddenly he's laughing. Well, as much as a laugh as Daryl can make. Quiet, short, and breathless. And she's smiling – _grinning_ – and everything feels right.

But she hears something, and the world jerks back. Without even processing it herself, she lunges towards the candles and blows them out.

Daryl is still holding her hands, and he looks at her alarmed. But he recognizes the look on her face, and he tenses. He tugs her down onto the ground with her and they wait, holding their breaths.

It was faint, but the sound of shraps of metal clacking against one another met their ears. His grip tightens. And then a man's voice. Several of them.

Daryl is quicker. He's already pulling on her arm and leading her to the stairs, his grip hard and unyielding. As soon as they're up, Bella immediately lunged for the satchel.

They've already planned for what to do in this case. The whole house sits on the edge of a short, but steep incline. The back-side hangs over a short cliff, supported by wooden stilts. Like how June, Bella, Rick, and Daryl escaped at the water tower, they'll climb down the support beams.

They haven't made ladder rungs yet, but they did find rope long enough to get them to the ground.

The voices were getting louder, and Bella could hear heavy steps on the porch, right up to their front door.

Daryl practically shoved her out to balcony. They both squinted in the darkness over the ledge. It was too dark to see below clearly, but it was quiet.

He grabbed her bag, allowing her to clamber over the railing. He held her steady by gripping onto her forearms. Once she was balanced on the other side of the ledge, gripping onto the railing to prevent her from falling into air, Daryl gave her an indecipherable look. They couldn't say much to each other – not when it could give away their positions. Still, he raised his hand to her cheek, and in his low voice said, "I'll be right behind you."

She nodded, adrenaline pumping in. She grabbed the rope and let go of the railing.

Daryl soon lost sight of her as she went down. Meanwhile, he quickly and quietly closed the deck doors. He left his crossbow around his torso and instead pulled out his hunting knife. He waited tensely beside the doors.

Bella was supposed to tug on the rope as soon as she made it down, and she should've at this point. Maybe she forgot, but before he could think much about it, he suddenly hears a deep, crowing laugh from below.

Ice shot at his heart, and at that point, he felt true fear.

"C'mon, fellas." The voice was loud and boisterous, not unlike something one would've heard at a bar. "Found something for us. Let's pack it up."

Laughter came from inside the house – maybe half a dozen men. Maybe more. He heard them walking back outside.

The fear overtook him. Unlike most people, fear more than anything has always motivated him to _move._ His gun – _June's_ gun – was in his hand and he flung the doors open. Running as fast as he could, he flew down the stairs and out the door.

He saw them down the trail, clambering into a silver van. He could see _her_ in some man's arms. It was only her silhouette, but it was enough for him to know in his heart it was her. He raised his gun and aimed as the van's door slammed shut. He aimed for the wheels, but it wasn't enough, and the van started down the path.

Daryl ran hard, pushed himself as hard as he could after it. He only focused on the red and white beams of light, that slowly got smaller and smaller, until they became pricks and then… nothing.

It was dark all around him, but he followed the trail. His lungs were burning and his heart was pounding. He couldn't tell if the moisture on his cheeks were from sweat or tears.

The only word in his head was _run._

And he ran until he couldn't. Until the gravel trail had turned into cement. Until his legs buckled underneath him and all he saw was red.

Until all he could hear was June's last words to him.

 _Don't let her run._

* * *

 **AN:** **Thoughts on how the story is going so far? It's hard to tell what reaction I'm getting so I would LOVE some feedback/reassurance l o l**

 **Also, one thing I'm trying to emphasize is how Bella has processed her abuse and trauma (growing up without parents, the man, drugs, etc.) from the past. The important thing is she has already moved on. She obviously still carries it with her, and June's death did bring it all back. But she had recovered from the abuse long before she met Daryl and the other's. She was happy before the outbreak with June and her life. I didn't want Bella to be the "girl with the hidden trauma" and for it to be Daryl's job to "fix" her. I wanted her growth to be all on her.**


	41. Alone

Daryl didn't even look up when he heard the heavy, slow pair of footsteps approach him..

When the person closest stopped less than a yard away, the person – man – chuckled. "Well, fellas. Look who we have over here."

When the man took one step closer, Daryl swung his fist, making contact with the man's jaw and knocking him back on the ground.

Daryl then swung his crossbow into his hands and pointed it at the man in one fluid motion, quick enough that the man wasn't able to pull out his own weapon. With salt and pepper hair, the older man wouldn't have been out of place in the bars Merle and Daryl used to dwell in back in the day.

The rustling behind Daryl confirmed that the man wasn't alone, and while Daryl didn't turn to look at them, he was sure that they'd have weapons of their own.

The man raised his arms good naturedly and pointed at him, wagging his finger. "Now, now. You don't want to do that."

He chuckled as he stood up, appraising Daryl and his weapon. "You kill me, and these fine fellas around you are gonna stick you a dozen times. And a smart man like you knows how dumb that would be."

The older man raised an eyebrow, his sharp blue eyes digging into Daryl's. He smiled, but there was something forbidding about it. "Why hurt yourself when you can just hurt other people."

That put Daryl even more on edge, but he was giving Daryl an invitation to live. And if he dies, no one would be able to find Bella.

So, he lowered his weapon but kept a tight hand on it. The men around him – about six others – lowered theirs too.

"I'm Joe," introduced the leader. "And I do so appreciate a bowman. Anyone these days can learn to shoot with a gun, but a bow takes real skill."

Daryl refused to relax, something that Joe took notice to. Daryl simply glowered at then man, shifting his weight restlessly.

"Look here-" Joe paused, waving his hand expectantly at him.

"Daryl."

Joe clapped his hands. "Daryl! We are going to continue on our merry way. And if you so choose, we would not mind in the slightest if you were to join us. The more, the merrier."

Giving out a quick, sharp whistle, Joe turned around slowly, nodding his head at his men.

Daryl waited till they were a solid ten yards away before taking a step after them. And then another. And another.

* * *

Now, Daryl ain't stupid.

These men weren't the cleanest, most well-mannered people on the street. Definitely no diamonds in the rough kind of guys. He could see the side-eye, suspicious glares casted his way. The group – for the lack of a better word – _slunk_ around. Heads low and backs hunched, there was no obvious sense of comradery or even amicability among them.

Daryl barely speaks a word, not even when they settled down for the night in the forest. And with one eye open, he barely sleeps.

Joe was the only one willing to make any attempts at conversation with Daryl. Not that Daryl gave him much to go off of in the first place. As far as he could tell, these men appeared to be mainly drifters – just like Daryl was back in the day. No home, no goals. They just roamed around, hunting as they go. They were rough, gritty individuals that didn't belong anywhere, so they banded together.

He sees a shadow of himself in them. He certainly wasn't taken aback by their appearance. It was almost familiar. Hell, maybe Daryl would be with them now if he never met Rick and them.

And maybe – just maybe – Joe reminds Daryl of his older brother.

That definitely did not mean he trusted them. Just the opposite, in fact.

Once the first wink of light peered through the leaves, Daryl grabbed his bow. Quiet as a fox, he slipped through their sleeping bodies and the barbed wire they had set up as a perimeter.

As he prowled through the trees, eyes sweeping the ground for tracks or movement, Daryl was able to gather his thoughts.

For the first time since the outbreak, Daryl was alone. He had nobody with him that he'd trust his life to, and it frightened him.

This wasn't as if he could ring them up or find them at their homes, safe and happy. Hell, even if he knew where anyone was, trekking to them could take days if not weeks. Without a single clue to where a person was, trying to find them in all of this was like walking through a maze blindfolded.

It was daunting and numbing at the same time. He could die, and no one would be there to mourn him. No one would be able to tell what happened to him, and he'd just… disappear.

That rattled him – more than he cared to admit.

Daryl has to decide what he's got to do. In Merle's words, he ain't a pussy. He can't wallow in self-pity. For both himself and Bella.

From what he could tell, the men were looking for something. They never spoke out loud about it, certainly not around him at least. But they never strayed away from the railroad, and they were attentive to the tracks around them. Whatever the hell they were looking for, he sure as hell didn't want to get tangled up in it. .

But he could stick with them – just for a little bit. While they tracked down whatever the hell they were looking for, he could take the chance to keep an eye out for that silver van. He'd be protected, and maybe when it comes down to it, he could have their help.

The sun was noticeably higher by the time Daryl had _finally_ caught a fresh trail. Not before long, a faint rustle caught his attention.

Careful not to alarm the rabbit, he levelled his crossbow. Hardly breathing, he pulled the trigger.

An unfamiliar whistle was the first sign that he wasn't alone. A pitch higher than Daryl's bolt, the whistle alerted him to an arrow shooting by. For a wonderful, hopeful moment, he thought of Bella. It was a sound he associated to her bow and to her.

But the black feathered arrow sticking out of the tawny rabbit wasn't her white feather ones.

Whirling around, he saw one of Joe's men – Len. Being reminded of the fact that this wasn't Bella angered him even more. He stalked towards the rabbit and yanked it up. "What the hell you doin'?"

Len shrugged mockingly. "Catching breakfast."

"That's mine. I've been out here since sunrise."  
"My arrow's the one that hit first. Cottontail over there belongs to me. That bunny is claimed, boy. _Claimed_ whether you like it or not."

Daryl brushed him off, tossing Len's arrow to the ground. Len's scowl deepened.

"I bet this bitch got you all messed up, huh?"

Daryl tried to control his anger. He wasn't the man he was in the beginning, back when he was volatile and reacted strongly to every instigation. But the more Len talked, the more Daryl threatened to boil over. His grip on the rabbit tightened as he walked past Len, jaw clenched.

Len's greasy smile widened, showing one gaping hole where a tooth had fallen out. "Got you walking around like one of the dead, who lost some pussy."  
Daryl slowed to a stop, breathing roughly. He shut his eyes.

But still, the damn man kept talking. "Must've been a good 'un."

Daryl could see a flash of green.

"Tell me something."

A hint of her smile. Her black hair red in the sun.

"She all alone out here? Pretty looking?"

Her voice. Faint. She's laughing.

Hardly thinking, Daryl reached for his hunting knife.

"Because they don't last long out here. They get snatched up real quick."

Daryl had his knife raised in a heartbeat, but before he could embed it in the man's head, a strong grip held him back.

"Easy, fellas." Joe stared down Daryl, ignoring Len's malicious, taunting laughs. "Let's talk this out like men and see if we can figure this out."

Daryl refused to look away from Len, his nails digging into his palm. He didn't give a shit about the rabbit at this point. He just wanted to cut away that smug, dumbass grin off of Len's face.

Joe nodded at the rabbit in Daryl's hand. "Len, you claimed it?"

"Hell, yeah."

Joe opened his arms. "You see, in this world, there's no going out about this alone. But it's survival of the fittest. It's a paradox."  
Daryl did not give a damn in Joe's tone – the way he talked to Daryl as if he was a sulking child.

"So, I laid out some rules of the road. To keep our merry band together and stress free. You just gotta claim to mark your territory, prey, bed, whatever. Got it?"

Joe grabbed the rabbit and with his machete, sliced the rabbit clean in half.

"'Claimed.' That's all you gotta say."

Daryl glowered at his half of the rabbit. Its entrails fell out to the ground, right onto Daryl's shoes.

Len practically pranced by him in glee.

Oh, fuck off.

* * *

Whenever Joe asked about Daryl's story, Joe was only greeted in silence. Daryl didn't plan on telling them anything they don't need to hear about. For all he knew, they could've played a part in Bella's capture.

But the more he was with them, the more unlikely it became. They didn't appear to have any other people or base. Daryl never heard them running their mouth about her, and so, he kept an eye out.

He memorized the chain-link tracks of the van, its license plate, and brand. He kept his eye out wherever they went.

And the longer he was with them, the more he learned just what kind of people they were.

The men were definitely not like brothers or comrades. In fact, they seemed warier of each other than anything. They hardly spoke about anything besides the next meal or place to sleep. This whole claiming business was pitting themselves together, despite whatever shit Joe says about order and rules.

This was further confirmed that night when they hunkered down in an abandoned garage. Len had tried to frame Daryl for stealing his rabbit half. And Joe hardly blinked an eye when he turned against one of his own. And the rest of the group gleefully took part in Len's beating.

In hopes of blocking out Len's cries and the plain brutality taking place, Daryl found a far corner away from the eyes of others. He settled beside a rusted metal tool box and kicked away various knuts that were spilt on the ground.

Placing the crossbow within arm's reach, he placed June's leather satchel in his lap.

Daryl was constantly on alert in case any of these guys tried to put their hands on it. He's seen their lingering looks. Daryl has never opened it or gave them any idea of what could be inside. He sure as hell wasn't going to let them soil it.

But now that he was finally away from them, he allowed himself to give in.

He could see them – _her_ – when he closed his eyes. He could imagine all of his friends – his family – eating dinner at the patio. Being behind the safety of the walls and the comforting sense of belonging.

But he wanted to _see_ them.

Daryl pulled out the photo album, forcing himself to steady his breathing. Daryl was never really the one to dwell on the past. It often hurt, and he would rather focus on what's next rather than what he lost. He wasn't the most sentimental, and he typically didn't like wasting time with self-pity.

But what the hell. He's got nothing left to lose, doesn't he?

He slowly opened it to the very last page. It felt like he was looking at some made-up picture book. Like he was looking at someone else's life.

Seeing everybody's faces – June, Rick, Carol, and so much more – hit him a lot harder than he expected. Not for the first time, he wondered where they were right now. What they were doing. It's night time, so did they find a place to sleep? Somewhere safe?

As he flipped through the pages backwards, from end to start, he saw a single photo that made him stop.

He could sort of remember that day. Not long after they accepted Woodbury residents into the prison, they had gathered almost everybody to help repair the fence. It was a massive project that they had actually managed to finish within the day due to the sheer number of people involved. It was a huge amount of effort, but it was what first instilled hope into all of them that this was going to work out.

He and Bella had been in charge of their own unit. It had become a light-hearted competition among all of the units to see who could finish their section of the fence the fastest. After all of the losses both Woodbury and the prisoners have faced, it was a bit of humor that managed to bridge them together.

And their team had finished first. And the first thing they all did was head inside and take a well-deserved nap.

June had taken the photo when Bella and Daryl threw themselves on the stairs inside their cellblock. Bella was on a lower step, her arm resting on Daryl's knee. She had a smile on her face – the subtle, yet teasing smile that Daryl always associated with her – and her middle finger was raised. Daryl had a hand covering his mouth, self-consciously blocking his own smile as he tried to hold back his chuckle.

They were covered and dirt and sweat, but they sure as hell didn't care.

The ache in his chest – the one that he had so desperately tried to ignore – grew. But he looked at how happy Bella was and remembered how happy he felt then. It felt like plucking a scab – throbbing and inflamed, yet strangely mixed with relief. It was painful, but if it meant that he could relive that happiness, so be it.

The protective plastic crinkled as he pulled out the little polaroid. He tucked it in his front pocket, promising to himself he'd see her face-to-face. No matter what it takes.

Daryl had still maintained hope that this group, however rough and ragged, had some sense of comradery. But when he woke up the next morning to the familiar smell of rot and saw splatters and puddles of blood on the ground – right where Len was, he grimly accepted that this is who these people were.

He looked for Len, as the rest of the men gathered their things. The nauseating stench grew, turning his stomach over.

He was the last to leave the garage, the men already striding ahead for the day. But the smell was so strong, that Daryl paused and looked over the railing.

Daryl hardly recognized Len's body. Covered in blood, yet alarmingly pale, Len was tossed over the side, not unlike garbage. His face was bruised and beaten, and Len's own black arrow stuck out from his eye.

Daryl had despised this guy. From the beginning, Daryl recognized his ill personality and bitterness. But seeing him, so lifeless and pathetic, made Daryl feel a sense of pity for him.

Daryl threw a blanket over the body and kept walking.

* * *

As they were trekking across an open field, Joe stuck out his flask at Daryl, who glanced down at it warily. "Some white lightning," offered Joe. "Best we can do with what little materials we have."

Daryl was definitely not gonna say no to alcohol at this point. He grabbed it as Joe warned, "Careful though. You'll be surprised how empty your stomach really is."  
He ignored the older man's admonishment and took several hard gulps. It burned down his throat unpleasantly, but it was the best damn thing at this point.

"I haven't been lit at dawn since before everythin' fell apart."  
Joe raised an eyebrow. "'Before everything fell apart,' huh? I haven't thought it about like that. People like us? You and me? We were made for this world. Everything has never felt clearer than now, Daryl. We've been doing this from the start."

His hand reached up to his crossbow's strap, rubbing it uncomfortably. These men? He wanted to believe he wasn't like them. But he was. He might've shared a beer with them from before. Outcasts was what they were. They didn't belong with anyone, so they found each other. From before, their skillset was considered useless and unseemly. But now they thrived.

Wasn't that the only reason the group way back in Atlanta accepted him in the first place? He wasn't stupid. He knew they had let him stay because he was an asset. Sure as hell wasn't his sterling personality. He had the skills most of them lacked, and it helped keep themselves alive.

He knew it was different now. But now, they were gone.

They approached the railroad tracks, and the men ahead walked past a large sign sticking out from the ground.

A hand drawn map of Georgia was nailed onto the wooden stick, along with a huge cardboard sign. With a thick, black marker, somebody wrote, "Santuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive survive."

Like blood running through veins, dark lines marked pathways that all led and intersected to a place labeled TERMINUS in central Georgia.

"Almost there." One of the guys nodded at the sign as they all walked by.

Daryl slowed to a stop in front of the sign. He memorized the lines, gears already turning in his head. "Is this where we headin'?"

"'We,' huh?"

Daryl didn't bother with a response.

Joe continued, unphased. "A couple days ago, we were in a hideout minding our own business. We prefer moving day to day, but sometimes we like to go back to that place when we want to hunker down for a bit. But that day, this piece of shit was hiding inside. He killed one of our own, Lou, and left Lou to turn. We tracked the guy to these rails and found one of these signs. Now, we got a destination in mind."

"And then what? You just gonna knock on the doors?"

Joe chuckled. "Well, before we make the full trek to Terminus, we're gonna stop by our hideout. We got three other men waiting and more ammo for us to use. Should be there by nightfall."

Something inside him told him to remember this Terminus. And it was then he decided that with or without them, he was going here. If any of the others saw these signs – and the chance was high considering how many routes were drawn on the map – then they wouldn't have turned this away. Not with what it could stand for. And maybe Bella was there, or whoever these people were could help him.

He definitely wasn't going to leave that stone unturned.

* * *

The sky was a deep, burning orange by the time they reached the hideout. Huge clouds were rolling in with the strong wind. Heavy rain was coming. The insects were united in a cacophonous song, as if warning each other. It was almost deafening – how they shrieked into the oncoming night.

The group had swerved back into the forest a while ago. A couple miles off of the tracks rested a squat house. Not unlike Daryl's home growing up, it was a dingy shack more than anything. Composed of planks of wood nailed on top of each other, it was surprising that the two-story house was still standing. After years of neglect, it appeared as though it was leaning on its side. And with every gust of wind, Daryl swore it was swayed with it. But it was in a large, open space nestled within the safety of the trees.

The rest of the men's spirits seemed to have brightened when the house came in their sights. Their voices grew rowdier, and their jabs towards one another became more frequent. Daryl, meanwhile, felt on-edge. He glanced the tree lines, eyes sweeping for any signs of movement. It was too dark and too goddamn _loud._ He felt like crawling out of his skin, but instead he walked with a restrained, slow pace behind everyone else.

Still, he missed all the signs.

Three men came out of the house to greet them. They were even more obnoxious than the rest. The smug, lecherous way they grinned didn't sit right with Daryl at all. Like they had a secret.

But he followed them inside, where it was just as shabby as the outside. The rank scent of sweat and grime permeated the space. A heavy cloud of smoke lingered in the air. He could see discarded boxes of cigarettes tossed across the ground, along with shards of glass and bottles. Candles around the room gave hazy, disorienting light.

"Hey, boss," called out one of the new men. He was on the stairs leading to the second floor, leaning against the railing. Dark eyes and blonde hair. A long, thin scar on his cheek. He was chewing a stick in his mouth and had a sharpness in his eyes that made Daryl wary. "We gotta present for you."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "How can I say no to that?" He clapped Daryl's shoulder as he followed the man up.

The air became more stifling the longer Daryl was there. He paced throughout the lower floors as the rest of the men pissed, ate, or slept. He didn't know what he was looking for, but eventually, he found the back door.

He opened it immediately and breathed in the fresh air. Sweet and earthy, the pungent scent warned about the approaching storm. The insects and animals that were so deafening not ten minutes ago had fallen eerily silent. The air was colder, and the wind had fallen silent.

"Boys," boomed Joe. Casting one agitated look outside, Daryl walked back into the shack.

"Change of plans." Joe clapped his hands together, a gleam in his eye. "Our fine fellas here found a goldmine while we were away. We'll head over now before the storm hits and secure all the goods."

A warning bell went off in Daryl's head, but he could hardly think straight in this thick, suffocating air.

"The three of them are gonna show us the way. But Dinesh, Harlan, Lance, and -" Joe paused, his bright blue eyes landing on Daryl. "- and Daryl will stay back. Get ready boys."  
The men collectively groaned, and Daryl stalked his way forward to Joe. He was practically vibrating in his skin. He couldn't explain why – maybe it was from the static in the air from the approaching storm – but he just couldn't sit still.

"Let me come," he practically growled it out.

Joe raised an eye at Daryl's obvious tension. "Daryl, we may have just met, but I like you. You're a good man. A man who understands the rules. I'll need you here to make sure those other fellas with you control themselves."

"'Control themselves'? The hell do you mean?"

Joe winked at Daryl, clapping him on the shoulder. The men had already clambered back outside, leaving Joe to close the door. He turned towards the other three and addressed all of them. "Behave. And Lance, the girl better still be here when I get back."

As the door swung shut, Daryl felt like air had been taken out of his chest and replaced with ice. The rest of the men had strolled away, leaving Daryl overcome and frozen with a dangerous mix of emotions – dread, fear, hope.

He heard a car – where the hell did they get a car from – driving over gravel away from the house. His stomach tightened.

Before he knew it, Daryl was heading up the stairs. Daryl found himself in a wide room, where Lance was standing. Thin-veiled excitement on his face, Lance was waiting in front of one of the doors. Daryl could hear a thud from inside.

"Lance." Daryl's voice was tight. Strained. " _What girl?"_

Just as Lance opened his mouth, the door was kicked open. A blur of somebody stumbling through – somebody who was pushed.

It was like all the sound in the world had been sucked away. Everything had froze, and all he could hear was the pounding of his blood.

And all he could see was the horror in Bella's eyes.

* * *

 **AN:** **IF you guys wanna see a sorta ~SNEAK PEAK~ on what Daryl and Bella are like as a couple, I recently posted a one shot called "A Promise." That story takes place a while after season 8 (after the war against the Saviors), and it probably will actually end up in Shit Happens with a few tweaks/additions.**

 **This is also probably a spoiler that they will INDEED at least be romantically involved by then LOL**


	42. Glass

He first saw the bruises. How black and blue blossomed across her skin – her shoulder, her arms, her neck. There were garish purple starbursts from a fist, and thinner, lighter lines that matched with a harsh grip. Like her tattoos, the bruises crept morbidly around her skin like vines.

Then he saw the white sheet. How she used it to cover herself with her one free hand. It was stained and ratty, but she clenched onto it like it was a lifeline.

Something broke in him when he finally looked at her face. A still-healing cut above her eyebrow had hints of dry blood. Her lower lip had a gash. Her hair was matted. When she first saw him, she had stared at him wordlessly, her eyes watering. Then she covered her mouth with her hand, tears slipping down her cheeks silently. It was that look of sheer horror on her face that set him off. It looked like she was almost pleading – _begging –_ him. Almost like she wanted to scream, and her hand was the only thing stopping her from doing so.

And just like that, the sound came back. Violently and sorrowfully.

"- others found her at some camp. Had their fun, but now it's our turn." The man – Harlan, Daryl memorized – trailed off, catching their reactions. It was then Daryl saw that Harlan's tight, crushing grip on her bicep, and how her hands were cuffed together. The skin around the metal was raw and chafed. He could see streaks of blood oozing down. "Aw shit, man. Y'know this chick?"

Harlan raised an eyebrow mocking. "That's really unfortunate. Because this girl is _claimed._ Clai-"

The thin, sharp dagger flew straight and true, upholding the legendary aim of its thrower. Everyone else in the room seemed to have frozen with shock. All except for Harlan, who was swaying unsteadily, eyes blown out in shock. Blood trickled down his gash of a mouth. He was gurgling. Maybe trying to speak. But the dagger embedded in the back of his throat was in the way.

Before Harlan had even fallen, Daryl already had June's pearl gun in his hands. He shot Lance in the hand – Lance's fingers flying off in a spurt of blood as he dropped his gun. His cry of pain was cut short when Daryl shot him in the head.

Daryl heard steps rushing up the stairs. Dinish didn't even reach the second floor when Daryl shot him next. His body tumbled back down the stairs.

This all happened within a span of seconds that was filled with bangs. But now, it was deafening

silent and unsettling still.

For as quick as moved, Daryl now felt like he was made of stone. He was just staring at Bella, and he felt as though if he looked away, she'd disappear.

But it almost hurt more looking at her. Her palm was still pressed against her mouth – to hold back a cry, he didn't know. Another tear trickled down her cheek.

When he finally moved a step forward, she flinched. It was subtle, hardly noticeable. But that small movement was like a scream.

He froze, and that's when he saw the mirror behind her. His image was distorted when reflected through the grime and the cracks in the glass. But he saw how the candles and the haze contoured the angles and hollows of his face. How that and the expression on his face made him appear almost inhuman.

Daryl tried to inhale slowly, but it came out ragged and rough. But he saw recognition in her eyes, and how she began to blink quickly. Her shoulders dipped forward, and then he moved.

She let out a small sob in his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her. Everything came crashing down on him then. The realization - _acceptance_ \- of what had happened to her. The mind-numbing guilt. The hopelessness.

Bella's crying, and he's just as incoherent. Hardly above a whisper, he murmured mixes of "you're safe" and "I'm sorry." But he felt just as empty as the words sounded.

It was when he felt like nothing that he saw the clearest. He could see it was shreds of her own clothing littering the floor. Her white arrows broken and embedded through the walls. Her bow on the wall like some trophy. The tracks outside that matched perfectly with the van – the same one Joe and the others had just drove away in.

He felt like he was underwater. That moment where he felt like he was floating – that point before you realized you were drowning. He could hardly remember pulling out Bella's leather jacket and covering her with it. Or rushing them both – stepping over the blood and the bodies – to outside where they found another vehicle.

The rain had started as soon as they stepped outside. And it fell hard. It felt like wrath of some being was unleashing its fury onto the world. The sound of the heavy rain was deafening. Daryl swore it had to be hail.

It didn't deter him from stomping on the gas to get them the hell out of there. The ride was rough and jerky, further adding more the chaos and mayhem.

He had no idea where the hell he was taking them. He just needed to take her _away_. As far as hell as possible.

But they never could catch a break could they?

Not five miles out, he began to take notice of the red light on the dashboard signaling empty gas. But he recognized this area from when he and Bella went scouting at the prison.

Daryl desperately looked for the traffic signs, and after finding the right one, he swerved into the forest. The old, rusty Cadillac groaned loudly as it jostled over tree roots and dips.

As soon as it slowed to a stop, he jumped out and ran to the door of the small cabin. He pulled out his knife, breathing heavily as he kicked the door open. The rain hit has back as he tensely swept over the open space. Only one story, the modest cabin had only the living room and kitchen, with one door leading to the only bedroom. As soon as he saw it was in the clear, he ran back to Bella's door, where he then covered her from the rain as he pushed her inside.

Daryl immediately shut the door and locked it, propping a chair against the doorknob. He closed all the curtains and made sure they were bolted. Lastly, he knocked the bedroom door open and cleared the space.

He immediately headed to the dusty wardrobe and yanked it open. Unsurprisingly, the clothes appeared to be rummaged through but relatively untouched. Most people who had survived the outbreak only took clothes on need-to-need basis, mainly to save space and lessen the carrying load. There was rarely a shortage of clothing when scavenging.

There were only men's clothes, but it would have to do. He pulled out the first shirt and pants he touched – a faded grey button up and black jeans. She might have to roll up the sleeves and pants, but it would have to do.

He took a brief moment to inhale deeply, hands clenching the bundled clothing. He then gently placed it and June's satchel on the bed before walking out.

Bella was sitting on the couch, still only covered with the ratty sheet and her jacket. Her damp hair clung to the leather, water dripping down achingly slow. Her hands were clinging onto the jacket to cover her front.

She was staring straight at the coffee table in front of her, her expression almost blank. The faintest furrow between her eyebrows. She had been like this as soon as she had let go of Daryl. Through the car ride, she didn't say a word, and she didn't cry.

Daryl walked slowly to sit on the low table in front of her. He was careful to maintain some space between her. It unnerved him to see her so still, so unaware. She didn't even look up.

But he studied her. He didn't look for the bruises or the cuts. But he saw the hollowness in her cheeks – had she always been so thin? The cut above her eyebrow seemed to already be healing, but he guessed it would leave a scar. He knew better than try to tend to it now.

Giving her space was the only thing he could think of. How the hell could he possibly make this shit go away?

He couldn't. He _knew_ that. After every single shitty fucking thing that's ever happened to her, she won't be okay for a long time. He failed. He fucked up. And if he wasn't the only thing she had right now, he would walk away. Any of the others were much more capable at protecting her than he'd ever be.

But he wasn't Merle. He didn't run when it became tough. Merle always said he left for Daryl, but that was bullshit. And Daryl knew he wouldn't be any better than him if he left her just like Merle left Daryl.

"There's some clothes and food in the bedroom. And your bag." Bella didn't look him, but he still continued. He looked at his clasped hands in front of him before looking back up. "The rain should cover our tracks. And from the looks of it, the storm might last for a while, making it harder on them to try finding us. We're far enough that we could lie low for a few days."

Her eyes shut, and he realized she was trying to level out her breathing. A flash of lightning briefly lit up the room, dousing them in white.

"Hey," he mumurred, voice low and gravelly. "They ain't gonna find ya."

It was a long time before she finally moved.

* * *

As soon as the door shut behind her, Daryl moved like a madman. He went outside in the harsh rain and paced around the small cabin. He looked for any weak points – places where anybody could easily enter from. The good thing about this place is that it was almost completely covered with vines. Covering the outer walls, the green allowed it to blend in with the rest of the forest.

Daryl weaved his line of metal around the porch for any walkers. Using his last supply of invaluable fishing line, he carefully weaved it throughout the porch. If anybody – living or dead – got caught on the clear string, it would tug harshly on the metal line to alert them.

It wasn't until he started the chimney fire inside that he finally sat down. A foot away from the flames, he tried to warm himself up. Anything to get rid of the numbness.

But the warmer he got, the more he realized that it wasn't the cold rain that had anything to do with it. Daryl shut his eyes tightly, knees pulled into his chest and hands over his head. He rocked slowly, trying to shake away the images of Bella – her bruises, her pain, her loss. Her daughter. Her trust. Her hope. He tried to forget about how much she was hurting. About that night when she confessed her old haunts – her old pains. And how eventually, in one way or another, the monsters came back.

The crushing, mind-numbing guilt in his chest. Like it was seeping like oil into his veins and eventually his lungs, until he felt like he could no longer breathe and suddenly he was suffocating. His sobs broke out suddenly, like a dam flooding out. It was quiet and strained, but his shoulders shook as he hunched over himself. His nails were biting into the palm of his nails until it broke skin, but Daryl wouldn't even notice.

He had held his grief in for as long as he could. Grief for Hershel, June, the group. But it was the realization that he didn't stop June's death or Bella's attack that crushed him. He had his crossbow aimed at June's killer, but he didn't pull the trigger. He slept under the same roof as the group of Bella's attackers for _two nights_ for fucks sakes.

The two were under _his care_. Bella trusted him with her and June's life, and within days he had ruined them.

Something within him shut down that night. That man from the prison – the one who played chess, remembered people's birthdays and likes, even joke or crack a smile from time to time – part of him died too.

* * *

Bella blinked slowly at the ceiling. In the gloomy, grey midday light that streamed in through the cracks of the curtains, she could make out the edges of each individual plank of wood that composed the roof. She could see the darker grains of wood that made the likeness of eyes. In various shapes and sizes, they dotted the ceiling. She saw them still when she closed her eyes. But eventually, she'd open them again. And like she was being hypnotized, she felt rooted to the spot under the weight of their gaze.

The other shack had these eyes too.

The rain pattered against the window, light tapping like that of a drum. She felt like the rhythm was the only thing that was keeping her rooted. Off in the corner, she could hear the louder, sharper plunk of a single drop of water hitting a metal bucket that was placed by whoever had resided here before. It drummed into her head, until every drop got louder and louder and louder.

She pushed herself up from the bed, feeling her muscles throbbing in protest. She waited for the wave of pain to fade away, eyes shut closed.

But it only got worse when she stood up. She stupidly didn't expect it – the soreness between her legs. And that's when she fractured, and panic rose up in her.

"Fuck," she gasped, bracing herself at the foot of the bed. She stood, hands clenching the wooden bed frame as she shut her eyes and tried to control her breathing.

But her breathing became short, quick gasps. Like muscle memory, she lunged for the satchel. She rummaged through its contents desperately with shaky hands.

Finally, her hands wrapped around the familiar, slim rectangle of her iPod. She prayed it would turn on, and when it did, she selected the first playlist.

Jamming her earbuds in, she slid down the wall, clutching the player to her chest.

Although she hadn't listened to this playlist in years, she knew every song like the back of her hand. She had never deleted it. As soon as the first piano notes began, she shakily brought her hands to her thighs. Her fingers tapped along to the song, "playing" every note perfectly.

After three songs, Bella flexed her hands slowly. She concentrated fully on the song as she carefully stood up. She felt the throbs and aches, but she just thought about the notes.

Every movement felt deliberate. She grabbed the gauze from the satchel and slowly wrapped it around her wrists. She sat in front of a wooden dresser. It rocked unsteadily as knee hit one of its legs.

She avoided looking at her eyes. She wasn't quite sure what she'd find there. Instead, she focused on the cut above her eyebrow. She had found a bottle of alcohol in the room. Hardly a gulp left, but enough to dab away the dried blood. She grimaced at the sharp, stinging pain. But it felt cathartic more than anything.

She found a dark green sweater. It wasn't the best for the summer, but it was passable in the storm. It was made of the softest material, but her skin prickled as it slid over. Every sensation felt heightened.

Her hands shook as she pulled on the jeans, looking straight ahead of her as she refused to look down.

She listened to one more song before removing her earbuds. She carefully wrapped it around the player and tucked it in the bag. Then, she opened the rusty doorknob and walked out.

The wood beneath her bare feet creaked as she walked towards Daryl. She loathed how the closer she got, the more her skin prickled, and heart raced. The way her palm itched, and the sheer _dread_ just grew and festered. This was _Daryl._ She trusted him with her life, and he would never hurt her. But her body went on flight or fight mode without her permission.

She stood in front of the window beside the cold, empty fireplace filled with ash. Daryl sat on the floor against the couch, elbows on his knees as he stared at the coffee table in between them. His hands were pressed to his mouth, and his eyes briefly flitted up to hers before looking back down. Bella realized he was afraid to look at her.

"You haven't gone to sleep, haven't you?"

His lower lip quivered, and he lowered his hands from his face. Instead of answering, Daryl pushed a plate of cooked meat towards her. "You should eat."

She didn't move. Arms crossed, she tilted her head as she scanned the outside. She saw strings of metal weaving through the ground.

Her face was unreadable when she turned toward him, but her voice was gentle. "It's okay. You can't keep going like this."

"Only if you eat."

While she reluctantly ate the strips of cooked squirrel meat, he settled onto the couch instead of the bed. She knew better than to protest.

As the day grew older, the rain never faltered. Bella sat by the windowsill, hardly moving the whole time. Occasionally, she would glance at Daryl. He slept on his side, his back facing her. Her eyes would linger on the wings on his back before looking outside once more.

On the last brink of day, she stood and quietly made her way to the back door.

It barely creaked as she opened it and left it slightly ajar, as she slipped outside to the porch. She walked to its edge. She stood protected from the rain due to the roof above her. It was like standing behind a plane of glass.

Bella tentatively stuck her hand out and watched as drops of water splashed against her skin. They'd roll down her arm before slipping back to the ground. It was cool to the touch, but she felt like a bystander in her own skin. Someone who was participating from the outside.

Like in a trance, she stepped down onto the earth with her bare feet. It only took seconds before she felt completely soaked. She shut her eyes as she tilted her head up to the sky. Her skin broke out in goosebumps, and she felt the chill in her bones.

Her hands gripped onto the hem of her plastered shirt, and she slowly peeled it off of her body. She began removing other pieces until she stood stark naked, rain slipping off and on her. And as the rain washed over her, she still didn't feel clean.

* * *

Daryl had opened his eyes when he heard the back-door creak. He froze and heard Bella's light footsteps on the creaky wooden porch. Grey light still streamed in from the windows, but it was darker than before.

He sat up, panic creeping in. Was she finally leaving? Has she decided she was better off alone?

He'd stop her. He told himself it would be to protect her. She's still hurting, and she shouldn't be alone. But part of him recognized how fucking selfish he was being.

Still, he moved to the door. But almost as soon as he touched the doorknob, he froze in shock.

He saw her removing her shirt. His eyes only barely lingered on her bare skin before shutting close. But the inky lines blooming across her back, over her ribs to her hip and the dips and contour of her shoulder blades felt seared into his eyes.

Daryl immediately backed away and moved quickly to the couch – much like a child afraid of being caught out of bed. He rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the image out of his head. His cheeks were red, and he wanted to swear to himself. Here he was, acting like a flustered virgin boy.

Still, the image never went away.

Groaning, he grabbed a couch cushion and shoved it onto his face, forcing himself to go back to sleep.

* * *

Daryl woke up once more, his pillow discarded on the floor. It was dark outside. Only a soft orange glow came from the fireplace. The flames inside crackled and sputtered violently. It snapped suddenly, casting spindly shadows across the floor.

He sat up slowly, eyes never wavering from Bella. Her hair was still damp, drying in the fire's heat. She had wrapped herself in a thin, blanket. It was draped around her like a cloak, and its scarlet red color stood out vividly under the fire's angry glow.

She was gazing down at the fire, standing only a foot away from it. Her eyebrows were slanted downwards, and her mouth was set in a small frown. Hardly moving, she looked frozen in time. She just stared at the flames, lost in whatever nightmare she had found herself in. Something about this imagery deeply unsettled Daryl. He was tense, as if preparing himself for a blow.

None of them moved for a long time. The air was thick and dangerous, like the moment before lightning strikes. One spark, and they could all go up in flames.

"I want to find them." Her voice was quiet, yet cold. There was no heat or aggression, but her words were drawn out as if in a dream. "I want to kill them."

Her eyelashes slowly fluttered, as she finally looked straight at him. He had been treating her like she was a brittle, delicate doll that was on the brink of shattering. But Daryl realized then that she had already fractured into pieces. And that didn't make her weak. Like a shard of glass, it made her sharp and lethal.

"Alright." Daryl considered her, biting the inside of his cheek. He spoke gently when he asked, "You sure you're up for it? I can-"

"-Can what? _Save me?"_ It wasn't mocking, but almost like genuine curiosity. Bella gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. She spoke softly like one does to a lost child. "No one can do that. Only _I_ can."

Daryl can try to understand that. Everything she's been through in her life, she'd overcome it alone. From her childhood, to _that man_ she had told her about, to June – it was all up to her to heal. He could see that she had long moved on from all of those things – long before he met her. She had accepted her past and had built a good life for her and June. While she may had had people to help her along the way, she wouldn't have gotten here if it wasn't for her own strength.

He exhaled slowly, putting his face in his hands. His elbows rested on his thighs as he tried to control his emotions. But he was falling into the same dark, empty hole as yesterday.

"I'm sorry." His voice was hoarse and brittle. Daryl looked up at her, his hands in front of his mouth. He hated showing vulnerability - baring his soul to others. He knew she could see the pain behind his eyes, but he had to let her know. "For everythin'. I should've done better. I shouldn't have let those men take you. I- I could've stopped them. That boy, too. June should still be here. Even Hershel. Maybe I could've done somethin' to-"

"Daryl."

His voice broke off, and he wiped his face. He felt like a coward that was too afraid to look at her again. But he forced himself too.

He could see her pain. Daryl could see the exhaustion – the numbness – in her eyes. But she looked at him almost pityingly.

She walked towards him stiffly and slowly, her soreness showing through. He had thought her arms were crossed, but now he realized they were more like holding her together. She sat beside him gingerly, and he saw that she was blinking back tears.

Her voice was crackly as she smiled at him sadly. It was almost like pity. "Daryl, you are _so good_. So good, you're always feeling so much. And sometimes it feels like you're going to burst wide open from all the feeling, doesn't it? People like you are the best in the world, but you sure suffer for it."

He was lost for words, feeling undeserving of her faith in him. She tentatively slipped her hand out from beneath the red blanket and tentatively held it out towards him. The tremble was hardly there, but Daryl saw it. He realized that she was afraid.

He slipped his hand in hers, feeling the smoothness of her skin. They weren't really holding hands. It was more like he was resting his on top of hers.

Her voice was a bit unsteady. "I don't blame you. For any of it. So don't carry this with you. Not this."

He squeezed her hand lightly. Her voice faltered before continuing faintly. "I'm telling you this now: I might be more… Things are different now. I feel different. The part of me that has recovered since _him_ feels shredded once more. And that will affect how I feel around others. Around men."

 _Around you._ She didn't need to say that. He already understood.

Daryl mourned. For Hershel. For June. For Bella. For her trust, her sense of peace.

Lastly, he mourned for the two of them. For that time when they sat in the fire's light and ate the pasta he cooked. When they laughed, and he had felt a warmth that for the first time made him _hope_ for something he thought was unattainable. He mourned, because they weren't those two people anymore, and their chance was gone.


	43. Designation

Daryl and Bella found no sign of Joe and his men back at their hideout. The three men Daryl had killed in his fit of rage were still there – untouched and unburied. But there were signs of hurried movement. All of the stashes of food and supplies were gone. The place was sparser than before.

It was likely the men had come back the next day, and once they saw the bodies, they left. Either to track down him and Bella or the man who killed Lou.

Daryl still found tracks. Had to have meant that they were here pretty recently – this morning perhaps. Otherwise, their tracks would've been washed away from the rain.

It wasn't long before they found their tracks once more. Daryl led Bella to the railroad tracks that the group had been following, and sure enough, he spotted imprints on the dirt from the crisscross pattern of Joe's shoe.

They followed the tracks almost non-stop, hardly stopping and barely taking any breaks. Daryl left it up to Bella. This was going to go down however she calls it. So, for most of the time, he followed her like a loyal, steady shadow.

Night's wing had just cloaked them, the sun barely peaking over the horizon. Still, Bella showed no signs of stopping. The tracks had just swerved off of the railroad tracks. Daryl knew it could mean that the men had stopped for the day to settle down. They had to be close, and the way his skin prickled did nothing to say otherwise.

The shrubs and trees grew denser. Piercing through his clothes, the sharp points of thorns dragged across his skin. He felt the jagged points on his legs, arms, stomach. He knew better than to try to stop Bella from continuing. But he squinted at her back in concern, barely making out her form.

Eventually, the trees began to grow farther apart, and the wilderness seemed to have levelled out. When he scanned over Bella, he saw fine, needle thin lines of red on her face and hands. But she showed no signs of feeling as she scanned through the tree line. When she stilled, eyes widening, Daryl finally looked over.

He could see a dim light from a fire a couple yards away. Wherever the men were, the tree line broke into a clearing or a road.

Bella moved without a glance back, slipping through the woods silently and nimbly. Daryl tensed, his crossbow in front of him. He knew his place in this. He wasn't going to stop her or take over. But he was going to watch her – guard her. If anything goes wrong, he'd be there to make sure she stands.

The closer they got, the more figures Daryl could see. But signals began going off in his head. The way there were standing – and they were _all_ standing – was way too stiff for people resting. They all stood rigid and taut, like they were a second away from a fight.

He was prepared to yank Bella back – _to wait_ , but she had already slowed down at the very edge. When she looked back at him, he was relieved to see she was composed. Focused. Cold. She wasn't in a fit of rage, and that's how he knew she'd win.

Her eyebrows were furrowed. She was just as confused as he was on what the men were doing. It made him wary. Were the men waiting for them? Did they know they were there?

But a raised voice caught Bella and Daryl's attention.

" _You let him be!"_ The raw hatred and anger twisted the man's voice enough that Daryl didn't immediately recognize it. But he saw Bella stiffen as she whirled back in shock.

"Listen, it was me! It was just me!"

 _Rick._

Bella immediately raised her hand, and he understood her signal. Daryl darted to the right, circling around while Bella went the other direction. They've done this plenty of times during hunts and runs. Attack from opposite sides by striking when one hears the other whistle.

The closer he got, the louder the scuffles got. And then he heard someone else crying out in pain – high pitched and young. Carl.

But just as he reached the edge of the tree line, something suddenly pummeled against his jaw.

Daryl was knocked down by the sheer force of the blow, landing on top of branches and thorns. It was dark, and he could hardly make sense of the shadows around him. He blindly lunged back up in anger, but a second man had already pointed a gun at his head.

 _Shit._

The men pushed him onto his feet and onto the road.

Guns pointed at their heads, Rick and Michonne were in a similar position as Daryl. But seeing Carl being held with a knife at his throat by the man stirred anger in his chest. The way the larger man – Jim, Daryl remembered - casted a leering smile at Daryl, his finger trailing Carl's face with sickening implications.

"Daryl," boomed Joe, a grin on his face that did not match the steel in his eyes. "Now, _this_ is a surprise. When I had come back to the house ready to kick my feet up, imagine the shock I had felt when I found my comrades dead. I found all of the bodies – all except yours."

He spread out his free hand, the other with a gun trained on Rick. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. After I deal with these guys who killed Lou over here, I'll listen to what you gotta say about what happened that night and the girl."

The hatred Daryl felt towards these men begged to be let out. It so desperately wanted to kill them, just like he did to Joe's other men. He now knew what kind of people they were, and how terribly blind he had been. The anger gave him fuel, and the guilt gave him ammunition.

He knew he should've maybe tried to play with Joe – get on his good side and maybe find a way out for himself and the others.

But – well – Daryl was never really known for his great self-control.

"Those sick bastards died, just like you will," Daryl growled, his narrowed eyes almost black.

Joe had a hint of surprise in his eyes. It sickened Daryl knowing that Joe thought Daryl was one of them. The fact that Joe had given him "benefit of the doubt" in the first place.

"Oh, Daryl," Joe tutted. "After my boys beat you to death, we'll have this lady here, then the boy. Then we'll deal with this murderer here. And _finally_ , we'll find that bitch who escaped and keep her on chains. After all, my boys said she treated 'em real good."

He managed to only grunt at the first hit – pain blossoming right beneath his ribs. He got to land a solid punch on the guy before another one stepped in and knocked Daryl down with a hit to the jaw.

A loud, piercing wail caused everyone – including the men beating Daryl – to freeze. During the skirmish, Carl had been pushed to the ground and Jim had put his weight on top of him. But an arrow stuck out of Jim's hand, causing him to double over onto the ground in pain.

Daryl didn't hesitate to tackle the closest man. He heard another shout of pain as Bella shot the guy who first punched Daryl in the thigh.

Michonne managed to get her hands on a gun and was shooting the others in the process. It wasn't long before they had most of them.

The fight quieting down, Daryl straightened just as Rick lunged and bit into Joe's throat. He could see Joe's eyes widening and mouth gaping like a fish as he soundlessly screamed. Blood squirted out of the dark hole on his neck – morbidly like a hose.

Rick spat it out, wiping his mouth as he turned toward Jim, who – with an arrow sticking out of his hand – scrambled back in fear.

Daryl watched impassively as he listened to the man's begging, screams, and then gurgles. It wasn't long until Jim was left twitching on the ground, his abdomen deformed from cuts and slashes.

Then Daryl saw Bella. Walking away down the middle of the road, her back faced the fight. He thought that she was leaving – turning away from the blood and death. But as Daryl squinted down the road, he could make out the disfigured form of a man with an arrow through his leg crawling desperately away from her. Daryl could make out blonde hair, and he didn't have to look closer to know it was one of the three men who captured hair.

He felt like his limbs were made out of lead. He forced himself to watch every slow, purposeful step she took toward the man, like how one does when approaching trapped prey. Daryl belatedly realized that every shot she had made wasn't a kill shot. In fact, the men she had shot had pools of blood beneath them. Nicking an artery, they would soon have bled to a slow, painful death. All except for Carl's attacker, who had seemed to have been saved just for Rick.

The guy had turned toward the trees and soon disappeared from Daryl's vision. But he could see Bella trailing not far behind him, her knife in hand.

* * *

The sun had long been up, but Rick couldn't muster the will to move. Not that he didn't have the energy – his body was practically vibrating, and his bloodshot eyes were wide open. He imagined this is what a dead – a purely dead – body must have felt like. Those precious minutes after death that causes the body to stiffen into whatever position it had died in. A morbid, physical instant of time that showed shadows of death and life.

Sitting on the ground with his back against the beat-up Jeep Carl was resting in, Rick thought of nothing and everything.

But he looked up when he saw Daryl approaching, wetting a cloth with a bottle of water. Rick shook his head. "Should save it to drink."

Daryl stuck the damp piece out. "You can't see yourself – he can."

Rick could still taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Hell, he couldn't even tell if it was just the smell. He honestly believed he'd never forget this taste or the feeling of Joe's skin and muscle break way beneath his teeth.

Still, he began the process of wiping his mouth as Daryl settled beside him.

"I didn't know what they were."

Rick nodded slowly. There was no judgement or hostility in his voice when he asked, "How'd you wind up with them?"

When he turned to look at Daryl, Rick took the moment to study his friend. Back at the prison, Daryl had transformed into a man that Rick would not have seen coming from when he first met him. He became a leader – someone that many people had grown to trust, respect, and like. Rick wasn't the only one to notice that and Daryl's growing confidence and surety. Rick also caught on to the smiles and games Daryl would share – mainly with Bella.

But now, Rick saw a shadow of that man. Daryl's confidence – his _faith_ – was gone. His face was lined with grief and sorrow. But most of all, Rick could see the shame and guilt Daryl carried with him.

"As soon as the prison fell, I was with June and Bella."

Rick felt a stone in his heart. "June."

The way Rick said it wasn't a question. Ladden with meaning, it was more of an affirmation.

Daryl swallowed and nodded. Rick followed his gaze down the road.

It was hours before Bella had come back. Just as the first rays of dawn peaked through, she appeared like a specter in the soft lavender glow. Arm and shirt completely soaked in blood – not hers, she had sat in the middle of the cement, right on top of the yellow paint. Back towards them, she had been sitting yards away as she looked down the long stretch of road and has not moved since.

"It happened that day. After, it was just me and Bella for a while. She was gettin' better. We both were. But she got captured."

Daryl's voice seemed to get hollower the longer he talked. "That's when I found 'em. I knew they were bad, but they had a code. It was stupid, but it was somethin'. It was enough."

Rick felt something like pity for the man. "And you were alone."

When Rick looked toward him, Daryl was already looking at Bella's form. "Said they were lookin' for some guy. I was gonna leave. But I stayed." He fell quiet beside Rick before starting up again. "Went to one of their hideouts. They had more men there, and they left to go scope out another place. That's when I found her in one of the rooms."

Rick felt the cold anger from last night flash in his chest. "They had her? She was the girl they were talking about?"

He saw Daryl give a small flinch at the hatred in Rick's voice. Rick wasn't directing it toward him, but the man seemed to be putting it on himself. Daryl simply said in a hoarse voice, "I didn't know what they could do."

"Hey. _Hey."_ Rick spoke firmly until Daryl looked up at him. "It's not on you. You bein' here with us – for her? That's everythin'. You're my brother."

And Rick meant it. He knew it with every bone in his body. His brother was once Shane. Rick thought he could count on that man to have his back no matter what. Since childhood, Shane was the only person he could've ever thought of like that.

But now, the world has changed. And it brought out the best and worst in people – especially himself. But Rick knew that he could depend of Daryl for anything. Daryl has never faltered in the hardest of times. Back at the ranch, Rick had seen the Daryl's old scars when Hershel was tending to his wounds. He knew then that Daryl wasn't a stranger to hard times. And he knows now that Daryl has only had ever stepped up with every scar or fight he's faced. Rick would trust Daryl with his own life – with _Carl's_ life. That was immeasurable in value.

When Daryl glanced up at him, Rick was relieved to see Daryl understood that.

And this time, it was Daryl's turn to console. "When I found Bella, I-" Daryl's voice trailed off, his expression hardening. "What you did last night, anyone would've done that."

"No. Not that."

* * *

 **AN:I am SO sorry that I've been taking a long time to update!**

 **It is a busier semester, but I'm also actually writing a new Daryl/OC story!**

 **IM EXTREMELY excited about it, since it deviates from the show. While it does take place during the zombie outbreak, I focus much less on the overall group and mainly just between OC/Daryl. It's very bittersweet and kinda haunting/sad, and NOT a slow burn. My goal is to make it emotional and heart-tugging, but NOT tragic. Thus, until I get this story out of my system, this story might be taking a while to update but I'm NOT abandoning it.**  
 **ALSO I plan this slowburn between them to end within 10-15 chapters heh**


	44. Stay

The gravel crunched beneath her carefully measured steps. Every time she lifted her feet, pebbles skittered across – bouncing off the metal of the railroad tracks. Between the five of them, they sounded like a line of marching soldiers. Or prisoners.

Bella and Carl brought up the rear of the group. As soon as they started walking, Bella made it physically clear she wasn't in the mood to talk. She fell back and dutifully scanned the sides for any walkers or wayward people. And it wasn't long till Carl joined her.

He didn't appear to be in particularly chatty mood either. If it was anyone else, she would've felt annoyed or suffocated. The amount of times Daryl had glanced back at her was ridiculous. She was pretty sure if he were to try to talk to her now, he would respond with a curt "fuck off." It would be unfair, but she wasn't in the mood to particularly care.

But Carl was different. In the foster system, the older kids tended to be the role models, whether good or bad. Growing up, they made her feel some semblance of safety and family. And then it was her turn to take up the pedestal for the younger kids. Bella had always felt strangely protective over them. She always thought that kids were more forthcoming. They hardly ever lied about their opinions and were never manipulative – never like adults.

And Bella cared for Carl. When she and June first joined the group, he was there. Unafraid and trusting. Innocent. He was supportive when June was lost in the forest, and she was there for him when Lori died. At the prison, she was one of the figures there for him to made sure he ate his vegetables, did his laundry, and went to bed at a reasonable time.

This wasn't the reunion she was expecting, if she ever saw him again. And the circumstances weighed heavily on them.

"How did June die?"

When she turned to look at him, there was only a sort of sad acceptance on his face. The tension had long faded from her body, and she had looked deep in thought. Their pace never faltered.

She breathed out softly, focusing on the sound of crunching gravel. "Got shot by the son of the woman she had shot. June-" Her voice faltered. "June shot herself."

She didn't feel grief. She just felt sad. And lonely.

"Those men-" started Carl, his face withdrawn yet thoughtful. "Did they hurt you? Like how they would've hurt me?"

The boy's eyes were pensive. Troubled. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she nodded. "Yeah."

There was no anger or bitterness. It just was.

Bella tapped the rim of his hat. She managed a smile. It was barely there, but it was real and that was enough. "I'm glad you're here."

His smile was bigger. "Same with you." He nodded down the tracks. When Bella glanced up, Daryl had quickly turned around. "You think Terminus will be what we're looking for?"

"It has to. It just has to."

* * *

It wasn't. Far, _far_ from it.

Just when Bella thought she's seen the worst, the world always manages to shut her up. Like Daryl says: sometimes, she doesn't know what the hell to think.

The only good thing that came out of Terminus was the rest of her family. Knowing that all the others were alive gave her a sense of peace.

But when the people who she trusts with her lives tried to do something as simple as a hug, Bella shuts down. When Glenn stepped forward with his arms open, his eyes wide with relief for his close friend, she took a step back. It was small enough for him not to notice, and it was large enough for her to steel herself. She felt like a machine – stiff and unyielding, when really all she wanted to do was scratch her skin off.

Fuck. She used to _laugh_ and joke with him all the time. She was the first Glenn and Maggie told about their impromptu marriage, and she could still remember the sheer joy and excitement that propelled her into hugging them.

Glenn noticed when he pulled back – she saw the confusion in his eyes, but she quickly moved on to Maggie before he could ask.

Her greetings were lukewarm at best. She could see the realization and sadness in everybody's eyes, and she was once again reminded of the loss of her daughter.

But goddamn it. They didn't _know._ They couldn't possibly understand.

The only person who could know was Carol. This was how everything started, wasn't it? Their two daughters getting lost in the woods.

When Carol had first appeared outside of Terminus covered in guts, Bella watched as Daryl staggered forward in shock and embraced her. And she felt a selfish sense of relief – like a burden being lifted from her shoulders. That somebody could be here for Daryl when she couldn't.

When the sky had fallen dark, the group were scattered about the fire in the clearing. Trees gave them coverage, and they all relished in being in each other's company once more.

Bella sat against a rock with Judith's head resting on her chest. She had just managed to rock the baby to sleep. Typically, a song knocked Judith out within minutes, but Bella simply didn't have it within her. She had taken Judith from Carl, ordering him to go to sleep. Half of the others were already lying strewn on the leaves.

She closed her eyes, Judith's snoring head tucked underneath her chin.

She only opened them when someone settled lightly beside her, mildly surprised to see Carol.

Bella saw Carol and Daryl on guard together, and she knew it was likely that Carol knew _everything_.  
"Losing Sophia-" Carol shook her head, eyes never wavering from the fire. "That felt like the end of everything. And it was the end of that woman I once was. She died along with her. Now, I'm a better version of myself. I had to be. But I haven't -" The older woman's voice wavered, just barely. "I've been trying to cut away that part of my past. I've been trying to forget. All because I'm afraid that I'll become that person again."

Bella felt impossibly tired. She shook her head slowly, remembering that night out on the balcony with Daryl. "When June died, I didn't know what I'd become. Everything good I did was because of her. But I had Daryl. I had help. And I felt like, eventually, everything was going to be okay."

Her shoulders slumped forward, but her quiet voice remained empty and dispassionate. "Two nights. It took only two nights."

Two nights she _still_ had bruises from. The reasons why she kept wearing long sleeves despite the humidity and heat.

"You hadn't been with us early enough to have met my husband," sighed Carol. "But you saw what I was like. The kind of person I was – meek, timid, quiet. And when Sophia had first disappeared, I felt lost."

"And then you found your way," said Bella, not unkindly.

"Yes, but you want to know how?" Carol didn't wait for her to answer. "I had someone who I had just met to look up to. Someone who had grown up in a life of struggles and came out to be an incredible and strong person. Not just a good mother, but an amazing person."

Carol gave her a small smile. "You have been through more than most even before the outbreak. And do not downplay your own strength. You've always had it within you, and nothing will change that."

The older woman stood up, resting her hand on Bella's shoulder. "Don't forget you have a family here too."

* * *

Bella cracked her neck and stretched out her arms as everybody else shook off their sleep. People were packing and relieving themselves in shuffled movements while she unwrapped the bandages around her wrists and inspected the raw skin. The bleeding had stopped, but the dried blood cracked with every movement she made. It had only been less than four days, and she could still remember the feeling of rope rubbing away layers of skin.

It was risky leaving it unwrapped but using the same gauze for days would just allow it to fester. She tugged her sleeves down and covered them up from the stars.

Bella felt a stare and raised her head – meeting Daryl's eyes from across camp. Originally staring at her wrists, he quickly looked back down when caught. Like a satellite, the two hardly ever separated from each other even now. But both unsure and recovering, they also maintain a bit of distance. Always around but never suffocating. She needed space, and – well – Daryl was never the one to cling.

Ever since they had reunited with Rick and the others, the two haven't had a moment alone together. They hardly spoken a conversation in fact. It was a relief having about a dozen others for her to hide behind. To just settle back and not think, so that's what she's been doing. Guilt tugged the back of her mind, knowing that it probably seemed like she was avoiding him.

She breathed out, grabbed a rifle, and made his way over. Daryl didn't look up, even as she silently propped herself on a rock next to him, her rifle on her lap.

Daryl was gazing out into the woods, his chin resting on the butt of his rifle. With all the times the two took guard shifts together, she had always found it rather endearing. Daryl was always so focused and ready. Seeing him in a rather carefree, relaxed position would make her smile.

"Have you slept?"

Daryl glanced over, simply raising an eyebrow. His mouth was soft, and his eyes were almost black in the night.

Bella pursed her lips. "You should've rested."

"Ain't tired."

 _"Right."_

The two lapsed into a mutual silence as they waited for everyone to finish up. It wasn't long until Rick strolled up with Judith on his hip, his hand patting her back as he gently bounced her.

"Anything happened last night?" Rick directed at Daryl.

Daryl hesitated, his eyes flickering to Bella's. "Saw somethin' with Carol. A person, maybe. Or an animal. But no tracks. Could've been nothin' but can't be too safe."

Rick grimaced, his steel eyes scanning the trees. "We'll head south for a bit. Follow the river. There's a town not far off where we can settle down for a bit. We're gonna need some food."

"I got it." Daryl stood up, reaching for his crossbow.

"I'll go too."

The two men and baby looked at her. The former two with hesitation, and Judith with contentment as saliva dribbled down her chin.

Daryl was the one to brave out a "You sure?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I'll try to keep up."

And with those words – for a split second – they were back when the outbreak had just started. Dale was perched on top of his beloved RV as the sun began to rose, and the untrusting Daryl was sizing up the wild woman from the water tower.

He cracked a smile as recognition lit up his eyes.

For the next few hours, the two trailed around the group, eyes scanning the ground for any tracks or signs. It felt like the old times, when they would leave the prison fences to hunt for venison. Although they were much more subdued than the usually were, it was a comforting familiarity that made Bella feel more like herself than anything. But unlike that day so many months ago, the two weren't lucky enough to catch a deer.

They joined the group around noon with about a dozen of squirrels. Revealing themselves through the trees, about a dozen of guns and knives were aimed at their faces.

Daryl held up his hands up with the limp squirrels threaded through a line. With a straight face, he said, "We surrender."

His response managed to bring a smile to most of the groups faces, even Bella's. She took the time to remember that they're all alive and together. And for now, it's enough.

But a scream quickly wiped away the smiles. A sharp frown on her face, Bella cocked her bow up as the group followed Carl to the source.

It wasn't long until they broke through the trees, revealing a man on top of a large boulder. Walkers were reaching up at him, desperately trying to reach their next meal.

Bella easily shot one down, with Carl and the others managing the rest within seconds. Daryl's green bolt embedded itself in a walker that was reaching for her

The man scrambled down, sweat beading down his face as he tried to control his breathing. He landed on unsteady legs beside her. Bella scanned him warily, undeterred by the man's priest garb and overall harmless appearance. Not a knife or weapon in sight on the man made her warier.

Rick stepped up, jaw clenched and eyes trained on the man. "You okay?"

The man had the decency to raise a finger before doubling over and vomiting in front of Bella's feet. Scowling, she stepped back against Daryl's chest. Surprised, she shifted forward closer to the vomit.

"Sorry," the man wheezed, wincing as he met Bella's less than thrilled expression. "Yes, thank you. I'm Gabriel."  
"You got any weapons on you?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. "I don't have any weapons. The word of God is all I need."

Rick matched Bella's scowl as he stepped up and patted down the priest.

"Sure didn't look like it," muttered Daryl.

"I shouted for help. Help came." Gabriel shifted uneasily under Rick's hard stare. His dark eyes flickered around the group with a mix of hope and unease. "D-do you have any food?"

Bella narrowed her eyes disapprovingly when Carl stepped up, her crossed arms. Carl stretched out his hands. "Just some pecans."

The priest accepted them graciously. "I have a church five minutes away from here. You all are more than welcome to take shelter should you need it."

She didn't trail far behind the stranger as they followed him, one hand on Carl's shoulder. Rick never ceased his interrogation.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Walkers? Not – not many actually. As you can probably tell."

"How many people have you killed?"

"None." The timidness changed into genuine shock.

" _Why?"_

Gabriel slowed down, a streak of true fear in his eyes. When they briefly met Bella's, she could tell he was beginning to wonder what kind of people they really were.

"Because the lord abhors violence."

Rick shook his head, unsatisfied. "We've all done something."

"I commit sins every day, but I confess only to God – not strangers."

A small, white church came into view. It was modest with white steps leading to a wraparound porch. A cross was erected on the top of the roof. Surrounded by the woods with sun streaming through, it looked almost untouched – like a monument.

Without a word given, the group instinctively separated. One half fell back – Carl, Judith, Tyreese, Sasha, Bob, and the priest – and the rest went forward behind Rick as they approached the front red doors.

Across from Rick, she met his eyes, and he gave her a nod. One hand on her bow, she kicked the door open, falling behind Rick as they filed into the room with weapons raised.

Rays of color streamed through the stained windows, revealing the aisles and pews that filled up the modest sized church. Dust swirled through the air – over the empty cans that littered the side of room and under cross at the front of the aisle.

The rest of the group clambered in once Daryl gave them the okay.

"You-" Rick pointed at the priest with his gun. "Has this area been picked off? Any food, water, supplies for us to find?"

Bella could physically see the man shaking in his white collar. "There's a river a mile off the town. The only place I haven't scavenged is the elementary school. The rest of the cans from this food drive should be there, but it's full of the dead."

"How much?"

"Too much. Ten or so."

The group shared a glance, and she swore Daryl rolled his eyes.

"Right. Daryl, you head on to the river with a few of us. I'll take couple more – and the priest – with us to the school."

Glenn stepped up. "I'll head to the town – see if there is anything left worth scavenging."

"I'll go with." She could feel Daryl's gaze, but she refused to glance over.

"Everyone be back an hour before dark. We're not taking chances anymore."

* * *

A large crash emitted from behind her, and in a heartbeat, Bella had her arrow notched into her bow.

There was no snarls or scuffling. She squinted into the dark corner from across the room as Maggie called out from outside, "Everything alright in there?"

Glenn's form popped up, and Bella relaxed her position. She crept forward and glanced down at the scattered boxes and a broom that was splayed across the floor and then to Glenn's sheepish expression.

"Please don't tell the others."

The corner of her mouth just barely quirked up, and she nodded for him to continue moving on.

When they covered every inch of the empty shelves and empty cartridge and ammunition boxes, they went back outside. The sun momentarily blinded her, and she raised a hand to cover her eyes.

"Found anything?" The new girl – Tara – asked.

Glenn held up the items in his hands. "Two silencers hidden in the back mini fridge."

Tara chuckled in disbelief. "I'm amazed there's still anything in a gun store."

"Rule number one of scavenging: there's nothing in this world that isn't hidden."

Agreeing that the most they'd get out of this trek into town was two silencers, a couple of shirts for the others, and a pocket knife, they headed back towards the church. The sky was just beginning to obtain streaks of a burnt orange, like the beginnings of a fire.

Maggie and Tara led them back, Tara talking animatedly about some story about her niece, while Glenn fell back to walk besides Bella.

Ever since they all reunited, she felt strangely disconnected. Not just with them, but with the world around her. She felt like a spectator – impassionate and uncaring, no matter how much she didn't want to. While everyone spoke and reconnected, it was easy to fall back.

Even with Glenn beside her – her _friend_ , probably the first one she's made out of everybody excluding Carl – she was lost for words. The prison was a time when she and Glenn had shared many laughs and teasing, and now she hardly could bare to look at him.

"I know nothing is going to be the same, not like how it was before. I know you want to forget whatever happened since the prison. Or maybe you want to forget about the prison itself. Sometimes I do too. So I could forget all that we had lost." Bella glanced at him as he continued. "And that's okay. You don't have to say or do anything. But just know, whenever you need me, I'm here for you."

When he put his hand on her shoulder, she didn't flinch. And that was something.

But that night, when the candles flickered, and smoke gathered from the flames and the hot food. When the shadows flashed across the walls and the floor, and the fire was too bright, too quick. When the laughter became too loud, too rambunctious – too much like _them_ – Bella felt the air get trapped in her chest. Her breathing became sharp and rapid, and it was easy to slip through the heavy wooden doors as everyone celebrated and drank.

The sharp smell of wine still lingered in her nose as she dropped down to the stairs. She rested her forehead on top of her knees, arms wrapped around her legs as she steadied her breathing.

This is just all so fucked up.

That one sentence was all that popped up in her head to summarize every shitty feeling and thought.

She lifted her head up, her chin resting on her knees as she stared out into the pitch-black shadows within the woods. It would be so easy – to just get up and walk forward. One foot in front of the other, gone without a trace.

As if her thoughts were heard, she heard the door behind her swing open – and with that, the sounds of the chattering voices from inside getting louder. She recognized the steady, familiar steps. The way his feet began to scuffle and drag on the wood as he slowed down beside her, before settling himself on the stairs. The clunk of his crossbow as he placed it on the ground.

While everyone else smiled and laughed, the two of them stuck out like a sore thumb. Daryl hardly smiled – hardly reacted - to anything these days, and the amount of words he spoke was next to nothing. She noticed the change, and the guilt stung insider h

Surprisingly, she was the first to break the silence. "There isn't going to be shit in Washington."

Daryl grunted in agreement. "All of 'em there – most of 'em already know that. But we sure as hell ain't gonna be sittin' on our asses here after all this shit that went down. Gotta go somewhere."

"But leaving Georgia?" She shifted. "Doesn't that feel weird to you?"

"Georgia hasn't done shit for either of us growin' up. Nothin' good left for us here anyways. Movin' around – maybe even findin' another home. That's the smart play."

It sounded utterly naïve to her. Especially just a month after the prison where they lost over half of their people. If anything, it showed her that that place was just a couple of walls and a roof. There was no guarantee and it simply offered an illusion of safety. It grated her – imagining a sunny sky and open fields - with Daryl grinning at her as they all cooked up the latest caught venison. It made her skin crawl.

"You thinkin' of leavin'?"

Bella's gaze never wavered from the forest. But her knuckles turned white as she fell silent.

"I'll go with you."

At that, her eyes snapped to his – a mix of agitation and anger. "Stop."

He was already gazing at her. She felt a sudden wave of deja-vu to that night where they got shit-faced drunk at the camp. They sat on the wooden patio beside each other, much like they were now. Before, the moon had lit them and their surroundings up clearly, but now she could barely see his eyes in the darkness.

"You ain't gonna go out there alone."

"You do not get to tell me what to do. And even _if_ I decide on that, you sure as hell are not going to come with me."

Her voice was sharp and flat, but she felt her hands tremble on her lap. She shut them into fists as he rebutted, "I don't give a shit on what you think of me. Not when you're gonna run out there when there's people out there. People like Terminus. Like _them_."

This wasn't the two same people from back at the beginning. Back when they were on Hershel's farm, and when the two would lash out at each other with heated words and storm away only to clash again later. Now, they spoke abruptly and almost quietly, which contradicted against the intensity and force behind each word. She welcomed this – anything was better than him treating her like a porcelain doll the way he had been for weeks.

"Don't patronize me. I am _well_ aware about what kind of people are around. But I'm not ready to leave this behind."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Because this place has been full of sunshine and rainbows. Nothin' left here for us but graves."

They both have grown up in this state and lived there for their whole lives. Hell, Daryl's never even left once his own life. It felt wrong to leave. This is where she's from as far as she knows. June was born here. And June was buried here. She wasn't ready to let that go.

Daryl studied her when she didn't respond, and it was as if he plucked that thought from her head. "Stayin' here ain't gonna make things the way they were. And leavin' Georgia doesn't mean leavin' the past behind. By movin' forward – for ourselves, for those kids in there – that's how we honor your daughter, and everyone else we lost."

She rubbed her temples, attempting to relieve the sudden pounding within her head. Her shoulders visibly deflated, as she forced herself to take an even breath before calmly responding, "I know that. I do. But I'm not right right now. That's not good for the others, and it's not good for me. I just don't _want_ to focus on another mission, another goal. Not right now."

Daryl rubbed his jaw with his knuckles, squinting at her before looking back towards the church. Through the small glass windows, he could see the orange glow from the candles inside. A swell of laughter briefly washed over the both of them before dying down.

"My old man wasn't like your girl. He didn't deserve anyone's tears, and it wasn't like he had anyone to give 'em to him. Still, when the whole world was goin' to shit, I was by his side. First time I found out about the dead ones, and first time I ever saw anyone die because of 'em."

"I couldn't even put him down myself. I thought he was the toughest son of a bitch I had ever known, and there he was – bleedin' at my feet. My ol' Uncle Jess had to do the honors, right before he himself got nipped. My first thought alone was to get Merle, who was doin' another stint for drug charge. After hallin' his ass out, I wanted to go back into the woods. Focus on ourselves and not the shit that was goin' on.

"It was Merle's idea to head to Atlanta, if you could believe it. The asshole who brags about not needin' anybody practically dragged my ass to the city. He had a funny way of showin' it, but I know now that Merle was scared as shit about bein' alone. It's why he joined the Governor, and then us. If I had it my way, I would still probably be holed up in the mountains somewhere, if not dead."

Bella lifted her head up from gazing at the top of her boots, but saw that Daryl was still looking towards the church, away from her. "Sorry about your dad. Even if he was a shitty person."

At that, he snapped his attention to her. "Don't be. I meant it when I said he didn't deserve anyone's tears – and most definitely not yours."

Daryl stood up and offered a hand to her. As he pulled her up, he gave a small chuckle. "I know now that the toughest son of a bitch is you. But even you can't go at this alone."

His skin felt hot and rough in her hands, and the heat lingered even when his hands slipped out from hers. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. His expression turned serious and his voice became lower. "Promise me you'll stay. At least for a couple more weeks. Give this a chance. And then if you decide to, promise to tell me first. Or Rick. Or Carol. Glenn. Carl. Anybody. Don't just disappear – they deserve more than that."

She gazed at him, and for a brief moment, she could see the shadow of a young boy. A boy who grew up alone, watching as his mother and then his brother disappears from his life without a trace. A boy who had to witness his father bleeding out at his feet. Daryl deserved more than that.

"I promise."


End file.
